


Mason's Folly

by Letthemhateme



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Fairshaw, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Kinda, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, NSFW, Plot, Wholesome, Wrathion is a bad dragon, brief mention of Kalecgos/Jaina, no beta we die like men, sassduin wrynn, slow burn?, soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:49:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 39,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26510134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Letthemhateme/pseuds/Letthemhateme
Summary: Sometimes Anduin needs a break from being King. A portal from Stormwind Keep to the Veiled Stair provides exactly that, and gives him a chance to reflect.
Relationships: Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw, Wrathion/Anduin Wrynn
Comments: 98
Kudos: 195





	1. The Veiled Stair

Mason's Folly. It had been years since Anduin had taken in the beauty of the rolling green hills and the open skies above. The young Prince had been charmed by the foreign beauty of Pandaria from the moment he'd stepped into its shores; even now after several long years, it still awed him. This plateau in particular awarded him a perfect view of the lands below, the smooth stone of the fencing warm from the fading afternoon sun. It had been quite an endeavor to get a mage to set up a two-way portal from his quarters to this spot in particular, but the mage had been all too eager to help the King with his unusual request.

Anduin leaned against the fence, gazing up at the sky. There was a slight breeze, but the wind was warm and gentle. Mason's Folly, rough steps carved into a hill, a path to nowhere. The last time he had been there, he had limped his way up to the top with a cane. Now, his body was free of the crippling pain. His right leg was still somewhat stiff at times and he often noticed a dull ache in his bones whenever he was in danger, but he had recovered from the pain with both time and the efforts of healers. So much had changed since his last visit. Anduin had become King after his father died, and with the crown came many more responsibilities than he'd ever expected as well as a heartbreaking sense of loss. He would sooner experience the pain of his entire body being shattered once again than lose another loved one.

A soft sigh spilled from his lips as he did his best to brush away the morbid thoughts, stretching out his stiff limbs. He was fit enough that such a climb up the stairs wasn't enough to wind him, but he was definitely feeling an ache in his thighs. The last part of the climb was a little steeper than the rest, but he wasn't wearing the heavy plate armor he wore into battle. That gave him enough of an advantage to get from the portal at the start of the steps to the end at the top of the cliffs, all without breaking a sweat.

It wasn't long before the sun began to creep below the horizon, sending brilliant streaks of red and purple and gold across the darkening blue sky. Anduin's quarters in Stormwind Keep had a breathtaking view of the city, the white stone looking a soft blue at dawn and golden at sunset. But this? The sunset made the green hills even more vibrant, and he found himself assailed by a wave of nostalgia. How many times had he sat on the stone fence and gazed out at this view, watching the sunset? Only then, he hadn't been alone.

"I thought I'd find you here."

The words roused him from his thoughts, and he finally noticed that it hadn't been the wind picking up — it had been a breeze caused by the dragon's wings. Last time they'd been to Mason's Folly, Wrathion had been a whelp barely the size of a dog. Now? Now as he came to rest on the stone path, Anduin realised just how big he had grown. He was still young, but he stood taller than a grown man and his wingspan was almost twice as wide as he was long. The black dragon chuffed in his throat, baring teeth several inches long. Anyone else might have been intimidated by coming face to face with such a terrifying visage, but Anduin merely reached out to place a hand on his jaw, scratching the scales there.

"It's really nostalgic, isn't it? You're a lot bigger than the last time we were here though." Anduin mused, admiring the way those ebony scales gleamed in the light of the sunset. "And this time I didn't need a cane to get up here." he added. Now that his hand was on such warm scales, he was starting to notice that the breeze was gradually getting a little colder. He was dressed for a warm Stormwind evening — a loose white shirt and deep blue trousers — but it wouldn't be warm enough for a cool Pandaria night. Wrathion, of course, was never bothered by the cold. The black dragon always ran hot, given the fire in his core.

"Has the pain gone entirely, then?" asked Wrathion, a little too casually. He always seemed to shy away from admitting how he felt outright unless it was anger or annoyance, but Anduin knew him well enough to know that such a question was asked out of a great concern for his well-being.

"Mostly. My right leg can get a little stiff, and it aches whenever it rains, but it's usually fine." he admitted. "Velen told me before it'd be a miracle if I could ever walk without a cane, but I had very capable healers tending to me." he turned his gaze back to the vista, his hand idly continuing to scratch the dragon's scales. He noted that the candles built into the fence were unlit for a change, but whoever was tending to them — assuming they weren't enchanted in some way — had made sure there was plenty of wax to burn.

Wrathion gave a snort, catching the obvious look on the blonde's face. "I'm not a servant." he said dryly, but he bowed his head to breathe a small gout of flame, enough to catch the wick alight. He moved to the next and repeated the process until all the candles were lit, sending shadows and light flickering across the stone path. For the first time, Anduin noticed that while the solitary tree beside them had grown larger, it's boughs heavy with leaves, it had been carefully maintained.

He felt the dragon settle down beside him, his bulk taking up most of the small plateau. Anduin didn't complain — it wasn't the first time he'd been in such a situation, nor would it be the last. He merely waited for Wrathion to get comfortable on the ledge, his great head resting on the fence, before the King moved to sit against his side. There, feeling the slow, even beat of the dragon's heart in his chest, with one of those heavy wings draped across him, he felt none of the cold.

"If you had waited, I could've carried you up here." the dragon murmured, one large red eye fixed on the blonde. "Assuming you asked nicely, of course." he added.

Anduin leaned his head back against his scales, feeling the dragon's heartbeat in his bones. Dragons were so different to humans, so unknowable and strange — and yet Anduin had never felt closer to anyone. Perhaps it was their many differences that helped them get along so well. Usually. "I thought you weren't a servant?" he teased. "But you're happy to be my personal steed?"

A laugh rumbled in the dragon's throat, his eyes narrowing playfully. "I wouldn't mind if you wanted to ride me." he growled.

For a moment, Anduin didn't understand. But then it clicked, and his face flushed red. "Oh, shut up. Must you cheapen the moment with innuendo?" he grumbled, looking anywhere but at Wrathion.

"Innuendo? I would never seek to let such a delicate King hear such foulness." he protested, a little too dramatically to be serious. "I was merely offering to lend you some aid, but to think, you have such a low opinion of me..." he sighed sadly, and Anduin almost felt a little bad. At least, until Wrathion ruined it. "It's absolutely correct, but still. You wound me."

Anduin pulled a face at him, but it did nothing to lessen his blush. His only saving grace was that the sun was finally below the horizon, and that was enough to cast a shadow across his face. He was silent for a moment, leaning his head back to gaze up at the steadily darkening sky. The cool breeze stung at his warm cheeks, and he felt Wrathion tighten his wing over him like a blanket in response to his involuntary shiver. "I really missed you. Even though we parted badly, I still worried about you." he murmured.

Wrathion eyed him for a moment before he sighed, a thin plume of smoke rising from his jaws. "I realise that now. But it was unnecessary. I am a black dragon, it would take a lot to stop me." he pointed out. At Anduin's withering look, he gave a snort. "Yes, I missed you too." he lifted his head and twisted his neck, leaning close to press the tip of his snout to Anduin's forehead for a moment. When Anduin didn't smile at him, he rolled his eyes. "And I'm sorry for knocking you out back then. I won't do it again. Probably." he chuffed as he began to pull away, only to be stopped by the male's hands grasping his horns. "Anduin?"

The King pulled his head closer, wrapping his arms around his neck. He remembered when Wrathion was merely a whelp, curling up in his lap until Anduin's legs fell asleep. It was hard to believe such a large drake could possibly be the same whelp. "I'm glad you're here. Not just as an advisor, I mean." he admitted. "Don't run off on your own again, alright?"

Wrathion actually seemed surprised, but he gave a small nod before nuzzling his cheek lightly. "I have no reason to leave. At least, for the foreseeable future. And if I must leave, we shall stay in contact. Unless you decide to come with me." he teased.

"If there is ever a moment of peace between the Horde and the Alliance, I'll gladly take you up on that offer." he promised.

Wrathion, seeming greatly pleased, gave a low rumble, deep in his chest. It wasn't too dissimilar to a cat purring, especially since that comparison was rather apt when it came to the dragon."You haven't seen anything until you've seen it from the air." he said proudly. "Not only am I bigger now, but I'm much stronger. Carrying you across the entire Eastern Kingdoms would be nothing. Especially since you're still so small." he chuckled.

Anduin had finally had a growth spurt shortly before becoming King, giving him a few more inches of height. But Wrathion had beaten him, ending up taller than him. And if Anduin was being honest with himself, Wrathion had only gotten more attractive with age. Gone was the temperamental boy with too many plans, replaced by a devilishly handsome man who could slay people with that smouldering gaze alone. Even when Wrathion was only two years old, he'd had the body of a young man and the start of a small beard. Anduin in his early twenties barely had a hint of peach fuzz across his cheeks, while Wrathion had a full beard. All in all, it was very unfair. "You're only so big because you eat so much. If you get any bigger, you won't be able to fit in the Keep and you'll have to sleep outside." he retorted.

A laugh rumbled through the dragon, the vibrations of the sound reaching Anduin's bones. "You're heartless, you'd leave me outside in the cold?" Anduin had never seen a dragon pout before — had never even wondered if they could — but there was no other way to describe the kicked-puppy look Wrathion was giving him.

"You and I both know you'd try and squeeze your way in anyway." he said dryly. "And if you felt the cold, you wouldn't walk around with your shirt half open in the middle of winter." he pointed out.

"And deprive you of such a magnificent view? I could _never_."

"You're so full of yourself."

Wrathion laughed again, tightening his wing around the young King. The cool breeze ruffled those golden locks, mostly tied back in a neat ponytail. "I have every right to be. If the people of Stormwind weren't so intimidated by me, I'm sure I'd have as many suitors as you."

Anduin blinked, caught off guard by the comment. Greymane had been very vocal in his beliefs that Anduin should hurry up and produce an heir, but he'd never thought about it outside of those conversations. "Suitors?"

"Oh, my naive little King. Yes. Suitors." the dragon was audibly entertained, his teeth bared in a grin. "You don't notice, but you're quite the catch. There are plenty of women — and men too — who would love nothing more than to gain the affection of the handsome King of Stormwind." he practically purred. "I'm sure they'd all be very hurt to learn that you aren't even aware of them. Worse still, that you're secretly in love with a black dragon."

Anduin was speechless. Sure, he understood that plenty of people were interested in him. But he had assumed it was merely for political reasons. Anyone who married a king would be granted wealth and power, enough to live lavishly until the end of their days. He'd never really considered that people might find him physically attractive. "Well, yes..." he said hesitantly. "Greymane has insisted _repeatedly_ since my father died that I should look to marry and father a child." he muttered. "But I have no interest in anyone who would marry me for status. If I am to marry, it will be with someone who I care for, not because I need an heir." he looked incredibly irritated at the memory of his conversations with the older man. He admired the old worgen greatly, but he suspected Greymane was so fixated on the subject of an heir due to the loss of his own son.

"I can't imagine that going down well. That wolf is one cranky old man." Wrathion mused, exhaling a puff of smoke. "He doesn't trust me, and I don't think he likes that you spend so much time with me." he added. "Do you think he'd like me more if I brought him a bone? Maybe a ball for him to play with." he joked, managing to get a laugh from the King.

"I think he'd try to turn you into a dragon-skin rug. Or maybe a pair of boots. His sense of humor is... non-existent, honesty." the only way Greymane would actually like Wrathion was if the dragon brought him the head of Sylvanas Windrunner, the woman who had killed his son. Anduin knew better than to joke about it, because knowing Wrathion, that might actually be something he would attempt. Especially given his prior attempt to destroy the Horde.

"As long as I'm the most fashionable and stylish pair of boots in all of Azeroth, that might not be too bad. Aside from the sweaty worgen feet, that is." he drawled. He tilted his head for a moment, looking up at the sky. "Look. The stars are out. I'll never get tired of this view." he murmured.

Anduin followed his gaze, noting the patchy blanket of cloud that was starting to creep into the sky. The stars were still visible, tiny silver pinpricks in an endless sea of black. The hills around them were high enough to often be shrouded with mist, but the mists receded during the late afternoon to reveal the land for miles around, hills and rivers and valleys. The land itself was different to that of his home, and so were the people. The Pandaren were an earnest race, their temples and homes artful and efficient. They built around the land rather than build into it — while the districts of Stormwind were all equally portioned off, Pandaren towns and villages sprawled out, as relaxed as the people themselves.

They sat in silence for a long time as they gazed up at the stars, curled up on top of the hill. But eventually, the air began to grow colder and even Wrathion's heat wasn't enough to stop the ache in his leg. He didn't want to go, but he would only be in pain if he stayed much longer. "Come on..." he hummed, stretching out his stiff limbs before he patted the male's side, waiting for him to lift his wing. "Can we fly back to the portal?" he asked.

Wrathion didn't reply straight away. His gaze was fixed in the direction of the nearby tavern, the warm yellow glow from the lanterns the only light around. But then he nodded and lifted his wing up, letting Anduin get to his feet before he himself stood up. He shook himself before bending his neck down, giving the blonde an easier time of climbing up onto his back. "Hold on tight. I wouldn't want you falling off." he warned once Anduin was settled on his back.

"I still think you need a saddle." Anduin teased, only to let out a yelp of surprise as Wrathion leapt off the ledge. He had no fear for his safety as he wrapped his arms around the dragon's neck, wincing as his scales rubbed at his thighs. While riding a dragon was much less uneven than a horse, the sharp edges of those scales left bruises and scrapes on the inside of his thighs. The first time they'd gone flying together, he hadn't even noticed his legs were bleeding until they had landed, and he'd nearly fallen on his ass getting down from the dragon's back.

Wrathion flew slowly, his wings stretched out to catch the air. He took his time, allowing both of them the opportunity to appreciate the view, even as he steadily began to glide down towards the portal. The climb that had taken Anduin the better part of an hour took Wrathion a few minutes, although Anduin found his legs still hurt either way. One day, he was going to get a saddle onto the male. One day.


	2. Stormwind Keep, Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anduin is young, and with youth comes inexperience. For all that he makes a good king, he is still awkward and clumsy at heart.

As soon as they landed, Anduin slid from his back and turned to glance at him. "You might want to—" he broke off, seeing that Wrathion had already changed into his more human form. "Ah. Beat me to it." the dragon flashed him a wry smile as he reached out to wrap his arm around the King's waist, before leading them both through the portal. Anduin was sorry to see the beautiful land disappear as they stepped out into an antechamber in the Keep, but as much as he loved Pandaria, he would always love his home more. The temperature in the Keep was cool but not as cold as it had been at Mason's Folly, although their brief flight had chilled him further.

"Home, sweet home." Wrathion hummed, stretching for a moment. "I don't much care for portals. I'd much rather fly, if I can."

"What about horses?" Anduin found himself grinning at the thought; while he had been riding horses since he was a child, he doubted any horse would so willingly let a dragon mount it. Not to mention it was fairly redundant, given a dragon's speed.

Wrathion seemed to be thinking along the same lines as they stepped out into the hallway, heading back to Anduin's personal quarters. "They make for a good snack before a flight." he drawled.

"That's... not quite what I meant."

"Horses and dragons don't get along, Anduin. It'd be like you riding a chicken. Pointless, and it'd be better off as a meal."

"Remind me to tell the guards to keep you out of the stables. No snacking on the horses."

Wrathion opened the door to the King's quarters with a dramatic flourish, stepping aside to let him go first. "I'll consider it." he chuckled, closing the door once they were both inside. "But I make no promises."

Anduin rolled his eyes, moving to take a seat on the edge of his bed. He rubbed at the inside of his thighs, wincing at the bruising. "You need a saddle. Just that short flight, and my legs are already sore." he complained. "I don't need a bridle or anything, just something between my legs and your scales."

Wrathion rose a brow, opening his mouth to respond. Or at least, he would have, if Anduin hadn't interrupted him. "Don't you _dare_ turn that into an innuendo, or Light help me..." he warned.

The dragon inclined his head, making a point of zipping his lips closed. Of course, he didn't stay silent for long. "I was just going to suggest—"

"Wrathion." Anduin rose a hand, golden light blossoming from his fingertips. " _Do not_."

Wrathion ducked his head meekly, glancing up at him out of the corner of his eye. "Fine. A saddle it is." he grumbled.

The servants had obviously been by earlier as the fireplace contained a small fire that made the room a comfortably warm temperature and his bed had been neatly made, something he greatly appreciated not having to do himself. He was lost in thought for a moment before Wrathion cleared his throat, catching Anduin's eye.

"Hungry? I imagine the kitchens will have something delicious prepared already." he suggested. "It's already evening, I think something to eat and a bath will do you good. Will do both of us good." he amended.

Anduin hadn't even considered it, but now that he was thinking about food, his stomach growled. "You have a point..." he said slowly, only to wince at the ache in his legs. "Ah, give me a moment." he hesitated, his face flushing a light pink. He wanted to inspect the damage done to his thighs, but he couldn't exactly do that with the male's burning gaze fixed on him.

It was no secret that Anduin was fond of the dragon — perhaps a little too fond for someone of his station — but their relationship had been somewhat strained since Wrathion had returned. When they were younger, back in Pandaria, they had been closer. Now they were both adults, neither seemed sure how to proceed. Wrathion had no problem teasing him with endless innuendo and crude jokes, but the most they'd ever done was a chaste kiss in the Tavern in the Mists, when they were boys.

"Of course, Your Highness." Wrathion, too clever for his own good, had understood the King's hesitation. He only ever used Anduin's royal title or addressed him like that when he was teasing him, and Anduin wasn't sure if he trusted the expression on his face. "Although, if anyone knows about scale-burn, it would be me. I wouldn't mind taking a look, if you'd allow me." he purred.

Anduin's mind betrayed him, running through several possible scenarios that all ended in equally embarrassing ways. "I'll be fine!" he said abruptly, feeling the warmth creep up his face to his ears. "I'm a priest, if it's that bad, I'll just heal it." he insisted, waving him away. "Go and make sure there's still food left over, I'll be down shortly!" if his legs weren't so sore, he would've pushed Wrathion out the door himself.

The dragon merely grinned at him knowingly, flashing sharp teeth before he winked and turned on his heel, striding out into the hall and closing the door behind him. Anduin flopped back on the bed like a puppet with its strings cut, covering his face. The last thing he wanted was Wrathion kneeling before him, wandering hands tugging his trousers down before running those claws down his thighs—

No, no, _no_. It wasn't that he didn't want Wrathion in that position — honestly, he wanted nothing more. But he wasn't sure he could handle actually _being_ in that situation. His experience in romance was embarrassingly poor, and physical intimacy? Just the thought was enough to make him flustered. Wrathion might think he was handsome, but as Anduin undid his belt and slid his trousers down, he was reminded of the truth.

His body was criss-crossed with old scars, gleaming silvery-pink against his pale skin. Faded scars from Onyxia's brood that had been healed by talented priests, deeper scars from being crushed under the broken Divine Bell, and more recent scars from the Battle for Lordaeron. It was a testament to how much he had suffered despite being so young. Anduin hated the scars, and he hated that no amount of healing would ever fully remove them. He had spent hours in the bath desperately calling on the Light to remove the scars that marred his body, but they refused to fade away. Even Velen hadn't been able to do anything about them, despite being much more powerful than Anduin. Perhaps that was the price he paid for fighting for peace.

He turned his attention to the newer marks, mottled blues and yellows already blossoming across the inside of his thighs. It was mostly just bruising but in a few places the skin had been rubbed raw, leaving shiny pink marks in the pattern of Wrathion's scales. He traced one of the marks with a fingertip, wincing at the sting of pain. That was something he could heal, at least.

He pressed his hands to his thighs, calling upon the Light with a murmured prayer. A soothing warmth spread from his hands to the abrasions, easing the ache in his legs. He let the glow fade once he was satisfied, his thighs pale and marked with scars, but free of bruising. He pulled his trousers back up and buckled his belt before he rose to his feet, stretching out his legs. "Much better..." he murmured to himself, glad the stiffness and aches were gone.

Just as he had promised, he made his way down to the Keep kitchen, the smell of hot food making his mouth water. He had already been hungry, but he often found himself hungry after calling on the Light. Even if the power came from his faith, it still seemed to take a toll on his body. He slipped into the kitchen, perking up at the sight. Food was a much less stressful topic than his scars.

"Something smells _fantastic_." he breathed, moving to take a seat at the table Wrathion had claimed for them. For formal meals, it was almost required for him to use the dining room, but for his own meals he preferred to eat in the kitchen with the servants and guards. It reminded them all that no matter Anduin's position, he was just as mortal as the rest of them. King or not, he still needed to eat.

Wrathion leaned over, mere moments from drooling all over the table. "They're making spicy noodle stir-fry." he said eagerly. "Apparently a certain someone convinced a talented Pandaren chef to come work at the Keep." he said slyly. "What a coincidence, given that both of us like Pandaren food."

Anduin rolled his eyes, but he couldn't deny the delicious smell of spices and sauces that emanated from the chaos in the kitchen was incredibly mouthwatering. The usual cooks watched closely as the stout Pandaren man bounded around the kitchen, tossing together ingredients with the ease that came from a lifetime of practice. Soon enough, two steaming bowls of spicy noodle stir-fry were placed before them.

They both dug in eagerly, although Anduin had to take his time given how hot the noodles were. Wrathion didn't mind the heat, even though his bowl was almost twice as large as Anduin's and would stay hotter for longer. "Perfect! Nothing beats true Pandaren cooking." Wrathion lifted his bowl in semblance of a toast to the chef, who bowed happily in response.

"It is really good." Anduin agreed. The sauce was rich and flavorful and the meat was seared to perfection, the vegetables fresh and crisp. It was spicy, but just enough to provide a light warmth without being unpleasant. They ate in comfortable silence, the Pandaren chef looking incredibly happy that they liked his cooking so much. The usual cooks discussed ways to incorporate his unique style into their own routine, in a way that would allow them to provide more variation to their usual meals.

Finally, Anduin sat back with a content sigh, setting down the empty bowl. "I'll make sure to pay him out of the Keep's treasury. I want him to stay for a while." he admitted.

Wrathion shrugged, setting down his own bowl and folding his arms across his chest. "That's already taken care of. No need to worry."

"You didn't pay him out of the treasury, did you?"

"I might have... liberated... a small amount. Quality Pandaren chefs aren't cheap, you know. And I had to cover the travel expenses somehow!"

Anduin stared at him.

"I'm joking, Anduin."

The poor King looked like he was considering throwing his empty bowl at his head, but he merely sighed. "Light give me strength to tolerate your presence." he muttered.

Wrathion grinned at him, obnoxiously pleased. "There's a reason they say dragons like treasure. I'm not poor, by any means. Besides, this talented chef wanted to travel and I thought it would provide a good opportunity for the Keep to experience something different." he explained. "And we do like Pandaren food." he added.

"I hate it when you have a point." Anduin grumbled, but he couldn't really argue, not after such a great meal.

"So..." Wrathion began, leaning forward and lowering his voice a little. "How are the legs?"

"Fine now, all healed. Just some bruises and scrapes. Which is exactly why I think a saddle is a good idea."

"And so we return to the crux of the matter." he sighed, pulling a face. "You have no idea how degrading it is to be saddled like some common pack mule."

"It's not like I'm muzzling you. It's just so I don't have my legs shredded every time we go flying." he pointed out.

Wrathion frowned at him, but eventually he gave a slight shrug with one shoulder. "As long as it's just a saddle. Although if we need to go quickly, we won't have time to fetch a saddle." he warned. "It'll be fine for planned flights, but not in emergencies."

The blonde waved a hand dismissively. "That's alright, I can heal myself if need be. Or I can always wear thicker trousers, especially when it's cold. And my armor will protect my legs any other time. But I'd rather our flights together be an enjoyable experience, and having my thighs torn up isn't exactly enjoyable."

Wrathion opened his mouth, likely to say something crude, only to close it with a chuckle at the look on Anduin's face. "I understand." he said dryly. "Please, spare me your kingly wrath this evening. Shall we go?" he asked, tilting his head. No doubt he'd end up asleep in Anduin's quarters again, curled up beside his bed in his dragon form. And always, his head resting against Anduin. Not that Anduin minded, but it made things a little challenging in the morning in ways he couldn't help.

"I think you were right earlier—"

"I usually am."

"Hush, you. A bath sounds like a good idea."

"Oh, that. I was right, wasn't I? A filling meal and a nice, hot bath. You'll sleep well tonight." he mused, getting to his feet and scooping up their bowls. "I'll take these back. Give me a moment, I want to thank the chef." he flashed the blonde a charming smile before he sauntered off, leaving the King to stretch his legs and rise from his seat.

By the time Anduin made it to the door, the dragon was already hurrying to meet him. "He said you honor him greatly by eating his cooking so eagerly, and that he'd gladly cook more if you promise to enjoy it as much." he said cheerfully.

Anduin flushed, but he gave a nod as they slipped out into the quiet halls. "I'll never get used to that kind of treatment." he admitted. "I don't feel any different to ordinary people, but they always treat me this way."

Wrathion's gaze was sympathetic. They both understood how it felt to bear the legacy of a well-known father, although their burdens were polar opposites. Everyone expected Wrathion to be like any other black dragon, corrupt and wicked like his father, Deathwing. And in turn, everyone expected Anduin to be like his father, fierce and brave, and most of all a beloved king. It was a challenge to forge their own paths with the expectations placed on them, but they tried.

"If only they knew how silly their King is, when no one is looking." he teased. "But if they saw you the way I do, they'd never obey your orders. You're too soft to be intimidating, especially to a dragon." he snickered, leading the way through the halls to Anduin's private bath. It was extravagant, even for a king, which was precisely why Wrathion insisting on using it. Only the best for him, so he said.

A lavish bath was built into the stone floor, gently sloping from shallow to deep, the water scented with subtle fragrance. Steam slowly rose from the enchanted bath, filling the room with a pleasant warmth and the faint smell of herbs. A stone bench was in a nearby alcove to hold towels and a change of clothes for Anduin, although Wrathion had taken to leaving a change of clothes for himself

But Anduin hesitated as the male closed the door behind them. Wrathion had entered the bathroom beside him, and now his gaze was fixed on Anduin. Those burning red eyes seemed almost curious, as if waiting to see how Anduin would react. If he was more confident, he might have stripped off his clothes and stepped into the bath. But as it was, he wasn't sure how to proceed. He certainly didn't want to make a fool of himself, but he also didn't want his scars on display. In that regard, it was the worst possible situation.

"You're overthinking." Wrathion murmured beside him. "If you want me to go, I'll go."

All teasing aside, Anduin knew Wrathion would never put him in a situation he truly didn't want to be in. And Wrathion was a _dragon_. Maybe dragons liked scars? Anduin shook his head, his face growing heated. "It's fine." he said eventually. "Stay." he still hesitated, but he moved forward and kicked off his boots before pulling off his shirt, revealing the heavy scarring marring his flesh. He waited for a response, and when none came, he glanced over his shoulder.

Wrathion's eyes were narrowed, thin slits of crimson anger. But there was no revulsion in his gaze, no disgust. The dragon moved forward, reaching out to touch his fingertips to a scar that curled around his bicep and up to his shoulder. "So many..." he said softly, although his voice held a hint of a growl. "I saw the mistweavers in Pandaria change your bandages, but I never knew the full extent..." he trailed off, pressing his palm against the scar. His touch was warm, even warmer than the steam filling the room.

The tension drained out from the King's shoulders, his eyes slipping closed for a moment at the touch. The warmth was similar to the healing touch of the Light, but it felt more human. Ironic, coming from a dragon. "They did their best to heal me, but even I can't remove all trace of an injury that serious." he said bluntly. He was still waiting for the hammer to fall, for Wrathion to express his disgust. And yet it never came. Instead, those gentle hands traced over his scars, and the blonde found more comfort in that simple gesture than all the healing he'd received.

But all too soon, Wrathion pulled away. "Come on. Before the water gets cold." he quipped, knowing full well the bath was enchanted to be warm at all times. His hands moved to unbutton his own shirt, shrugging it off and setting it aside. Anduin couldn't help but stare. Wrathion was everything he wasn't. He was more muscular than Anduin, his humanoid form seeming barely able to contain the raw power of a dragon, and whereas Anduin was almost as hairless as an elf but for a light golden fuzz, there was a trail of dark hair that travelled from Wrathion's chest down to disappear beneath his waistband. Not to mention the male's lack of scars, that ebony skin untarnished.

But more surprising than that, Anduin found his gaze drawn to the piercings — both nipples were pierced with simple golden bars, leaving the blonde to wonder just what sort of reaction he'd get if he—

He forced the thoughts aside and averted his gaze before before his body could betray him, unbuckling his belt and kicking off his trousers and undergarments before his sudden bravery could falter. He set them aside before he stepped into the water, the temperature perfectly warm without being too hot. Behind him, he heard the rustle of cloth as the male stripped, and then the splash of water as the dragon joined the blonde.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW next chapter, perhaps? Chaotic dumbass meets lawful stupid and they fall in love, honestly.


	3. Stormwind Keep, Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anduin finds himself in an unexpected situation, but he's certainly not complaining.

Anduin was keenly aware of his heart pounding in his chest, hammering against his ribs so loudly he wondered if Wrathion could hear it. He was glad the steam and the water provided some cover, but he couldn't stop thinking about his situation. He was naked, the water of the bath up to his chest, and Wrathion was beside him, equally naked. At least the heat provided a good excuse for his face to be so flushed, but it really had nothing to do with the temperature. Keeping his gaze fixed on the water in front of him, he reached up to undo the tie holding his hair in a ponytail, shaking it loose. Anything to get his mind off the man beside him. "Why are black dragons so fond of lava?" he said suddenly, desperate to fill the silence.

Wrathion chuckled softly, the splash of water echoing in the chamber as he combed his fingers through his curls, although Anduin could only see him in his peripheral vision. "We have always been dragons of the earth, even after the corruption. The cold doesn't bother us, but we much prefer the heat." he mused. "Stormwind is nice in that regard, although it's a little more humid than I would like."

"It gets cold in winter, especially at night. But it's not exactly lava." he admitted, chancing a look at the male. Wrathion was watching him with an amused smile, but he seemed content to just bask in the warm water. If Wrathion knew the reason for his unease, he said nothing. "Tell me something..."

The dragon rose a brow when Anduin trailed off, gesturing for him to go ahead with a wave of his hand.

"Why that form? The other dragons I've seen all had more... well, draconic traits. Like horns. So how come—"

"How come I look more human?"

Anduin nodded.

"Many lives were lost in Deathwing's Cataclysm. My very existence is a reminder of that, of what atrocities my kin committed, especially to the other dragonflights. I may not be corrupted as he was, but it's not so easy to put aside hatred." he said simply, although his brow furrowed. "I could take a more draconic form, but that would draw more attention than I desire. I am not my father, but others might not see it that way. I have little love for the other dragonflights, but I don't want to cause more trouble than necessary." he finished.

The blonde mulled over his words as he waded to the deeper part of the bath, reaching for the soap at the edge to wash away the day's grime. "What about when it's just you, or when you're not in public? You don't have a problem with me seeing." he asked suddenly, his curiosity piqued.

Wrathion was silent for a long moment, long enough that Anduin wasn't even sure he'd reply. But eventually, he shrugged. "You don't care that I'm a dragon." he said slowly. "You're not intimidated in the slightest, and you have no qualms about telling me to shut up. You're... soft. I know I said it was a bad thing to be too soft, but..." he looked away, visibly uncomfortable. "It's not bad to be on the receiving end of that softness."

Finally, Anduin caught on. Growing up, Anduin had always been loved. Varian, while they hadn't always agreed, had still adored his son no matter what. His tutors and advisors all thought highly of him and praised his kindness and thoughtfulness. Anduin had never wanted for anything while growing up. But Wrathion had led a vastly different life. His only blood relatives, the black dragonflight, were corrupted. Even though he was a child in years, he had taken it upon himself to end his father's legacy of madness. Anduin had been heartbroken by the death of his father — he couldn't imagine the pain of having to slay his own family, corrupted or not. Even if Wrathion tried to act blasé about it, Anduin knew it had to hurt.

But Wrathion held up a hand, his eyes fixed on the blonde. "I don't need your pity, Anduin." he said sharply.

"It's not pity." he protested, setting aside the soap. "It's _empathy_. I've seen the devastation caused by the Cataclysm. I've lost dear friends because of it. I know what—"

Wrathion shook his head, straightening up to meet his gaze fully. Those eyes like burning coals skewered Anduin in place, keeping him from looking away. "You have no idea what the black dragonflight _did_! You've seen Onyxia scheme to destroy the Alliance, but you were a child then—"

"Don't tell me what I know." he interrupted. "Onyxia very nearly killed me and my father. I was a child, kidnapped and then hunted down by her whelps." he held up his arm, revealing three curving scars that ran from his upper bicep down to his elbow, uneven and jagged and underlined by a smaller scar. "I know exactly what the black dragonflight did, just as I know you're not like them." he said bluntly, lowering his arm. The next time he spoke, his voice was softer. "I don't pity you, Wrathion. But I do understand. If I had been in your situation... I don't know if I could've managed as well as you have."

The anger faded from Wrathion's eyes, replaced with something akin to guilt. "You understand me better than I understand you." he muttered, sinking a little deeper into the water. "Life hasn't been entirely kind to you either, but you're still so... optimistic. Nice." he reached out after a moment, his fingertips touching the scars across Anduin's arm. If things had been a little different, if Wrathion had been just like his kin, perhaps it would've been his claws leaving the scars. "Black dragons did this to you, and yet you still want my company."

Anduin felt his lips curl into a crooked smile, his expression softening. "You're not like them. And besides, someone needs to keep you out of trouble." he chuckled, relaxing in the water as the tension between them faded away. "So, about those horns..." he said slowly.

The dragon rose a brow, looking rather bemused. "You're not going to let it go, are you?" he drawled. "I suppose I'll have to show you, one day. This form is comfortable enough, but it does feel better not to hide it." he admitted. "Although sometimes it's hard to hide it. Like when very angry kings decide to punch me." he said pointedly.

Anduin flushed. "The last time I saw you, you knocked me out and disappeared. The way I see it, you got off lucky. You should be thanking your king for being so merciful." he huffed.

Wrathion tilted his head curiously at the male's words, his eyes narrowing mischievously. " _My_ king?" he echoed, that dastardly smirk creeping onto his lips. "You forget, Anduin. You may be King, but I'm not one of your subjects. You can give me orders, but there's no guarantee I'll obey." he purred.

Anduin didn't think it was possible for his face to get any more red, but somehow it proved him wrong. "I still outrank you, _Prince_! You're lucky I only punched you, you ridiculous reptile." he shot back. It would've been a scathing jab, had his voice not caught in his throat.

The waters swirled as Wrathion moved towards him, leaving the blonde cornered against the wall of the bath in the shallow end. "I'm a ridiculous reptile, am I?" with no way to escape from that burning gaze, Anduin briefly considered drowning himself then and there. Anything would be better than being teased like this, his burning face so easily seen.

"What are you—"

Lips against his, soft and warm and gentle. His eyes widened in surprise but he didn't push the male away, didn't try to break the kiss. He even surprised himself when he began to relax, reflexively moving to kiss him back. Wrathion's hand was on his arm again, fingers touching the scars there, but Anduin found he didn't mind the faint pinprick of claws resting against his skin. His own hands moved up hesitantly, tangling in those thick black curls as though to keep him from pulling away. It had been years since the chaste kiss they had shared, but the taste of his lips was the same as he remembered.

All too soon, just as the kiss had begun to grow more heated, Wrathion broke the kiss. For once, that cocksure and smug expression was missing, replaced by uncertainty. It was easy to forget that Wrathion was younger than him in years, even if dragons matured much faster than humans. "I missed you." he said suddenly, his gaze falling as his fingertips traced the numerous scars marking Anduin's arm. "I didn't think you'd want to see me again, after what I did. This is more than I deserve." he murmured.

Anduin shook his head slowly, his cheeks still pink. "It's not about what you deserve..." he said slowly, feeling a warmth budding in his chest similar to when he called on the Light. Politics be damned, he was doing the right thing. "It's what I want to give you." he finished, closing the distance between them to return the kiss. As he felt Wrathion melt against him, he was reminded just how inexperienced he was. His only intimacy had been his own touch, alone in his quarters late at night. He knew what he liked but when it came to Wrathion, he had no idea how to proceed.

But the dragon gave him no time to consider how awkward he felt, attacking his lips with a hunger Anduin was quick to meet with his own. Sharp teeth tugged at his lower lip, coaxing him to open his mouth. With the warm stone of the bath pressed against his back, he had nowhere to escape to as Wrathion pressed up against him, his body much warmer than the heated water that was now just under waist deep on him. Just as his lungs began to burn for air and he became convinced that dying like that was an acceptable way to die, Wrathion broke the kiss.

But he wasn't finished. His lips moved down, kissing and licking his way down the blonde's neck, occasionally pausing to leave small red marks on his pale flesh. Anduin couldn't help the soft gasp that escaped him as those sharp teeth nipped at him, all the blood rushing from his head down to his cock. "Wrathion—" he groaned, not sure if he wanted to push the male away or urge him to continue. The logical part of his mind understood that an affair between a black dragon and the King of Stormwind could only cause problems, but his heart and his body desperately wanted more.

Claws dug into his flesh, careful not to actually break the skin. "Do you want to stop?" Wrathion murmured against his throat, his beard tickling his collarbone. "I don't know if I'll be capable of stopping if we continue this. I want you." he growled, nudging his knee between Anduin's thighs.

Anduin hadn't realised just how desperately he wanted to be touched, and now with Wrathion so close, he wanted more. A small sound of frustration escaped him, wishing that he had more experience. Then he could've taken over, spurred things along—

"Anduin." the dragon nipped at his throat, drawing his thoughts back to the present. Right. Did he want to stop? Just how far did he want to go? His hesitance betrayed him, and Wrathion pulled back slightly to study his face. Those crimson eyes were burning with a hunger Anduin had never seen before, one that made him feel an awful lot like a meal. He should've felt fear, should've felt any sort of concern, but he found himself pressing his hips against Wrathion's knee and shuddering from the delicious friction that caused. "We can start slow." he murmured, sensing his hesitation.

Anduin nodded hastily, although he suspected he might have agreed to anything if Wrathion would just move his knee. "Slow is good." he breathed, his voice shaking. He barely had time to react before Wrathion's hands slid down to his thighs, only to hoist him up onto the edge of the bath. The dragon pressed against him, and Anduin was treated to the sight of Wrathion's erection pressing hard against his thigh. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, possibly something more human, but he wasn't turned off by what he saw. His length was dark, darker than his skin, but the underside was ridged and streaked the same vivid red as his eyes, while the tip tapered into a point.

The blonde reached out a hand, his fingers curling around the male's length. The touch drew a soft hiss from the dragon, his hips bucking up into his hand on reflex. Wrathion was warmer than he'd expected, even warmer than the heated water of the bath. Anduin couldn't help but feel a little self conscious, his own member boringly average in comparison. But the thought flew from his mind as Wrathion's hand fisted around his length, an embarrassingly needy moan escaping him before he could think to silence it. He pressed his free hand to his mouth to smother any further noises from escaping; just in time too, as Wrathion slowly began to move his hand, his claws barely brushing against the sensitive flesh.

He had enough sense left to move his own hand to clumsily jerk the male off, twisting his wrist slightly each time he felt Wrathion thrust into his hand. His thumb swept over the pointed tip, feeling the slick of precum smear under his touch. An unbidden thought came to his mind, wondering just how it would feel to take the male's length into his mouth, just how he'd taste on his tongue, what kind of expression he would make when he finally came.

Golden lashes fluttered as he glanced up, catching Wrathion's expression. His brow was furrowed and his lips were parted, eyes closed and a low growl rumbling in his chest when Anduin tightened his fingers ever so slightly. But then his eyes opened, meeting Anduin's gaze with a sly grin that revealed his sharp teeth. He leaned forward and returned to peppering his neck with kisses and soft bites. Each time Wrathion's claws rubbed against his length, he couldn't help but buck his hips up against his hand. Nothing escaped Wrathion's notice, especially not this.

Anduin felt him chuckle against his throat before the dragon ran the tip of a claw down the underside of his length, giving a surprised moan smothered by his hand. But then Wrathion's free hand was around his wrist, pulling his hand from his mouth. "Let me hear you." he purred, punctuating his words with a soft bite to the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

His words shot straight down Anduin's spine, his hand moving instead to tangle in those rich black curls. "Wrathion..." he groaned, feeling the pleasure gradually building in his abdomen. The heat of the bath combined with Wrathion's own heat was a heady combination on its own, and the added pleasure left him in a daze, eager to touch and be touched in return.

It wasn't long until the pleasure became almost unbearable, his cock twitching as his release inched closer. "Ah... close..." he gasped, his back arching. He was almost writhing against the dragon, unable to concentrate on anything but their hands. All too soon, Wrathion dug his claws in lightly and that simple motion tipped Anduin over the edge, a husky moan of the male's name spilling from him as he came. Wrathion followed soon after with a low growl of his own, burying his face against Anduin's shoulder as he rutted into his hand.

The blonde was content to languish in his post-orgasm haze, feeling as though his bones had been turned to jelly. He didn't want to move, didn't even want to think, he just wanted to enjoy the tingling in his body and the feeling of Wrathion's breath on his shoulder. He stirred eventually as the haze began to fade away, finally noticing the mess between them. His face flushed anew, but this time his embarrassment was greatly lessened after seeing that Wrathion was almost as flustered as he was.

They reluctantly untangled themselves from each other, although Anduin couldn't help but notice the sheer volume of the male's seed coating his fingers. He caught the male's eye as he slipped back into the water to clean up, but the dragon's lips were curled in a dastardly smirk. Before Anduin could open his mouth to speak, Wrathion lifted his hand, stained white with Anduin's release, and brought his fingers to his mouth.

Anduin's eyes widened in surprise, but he was more surprised to find himself transfixed as he watched the male lick his fingers clean, that long tongue curling around each finger before he moved to the next. Even though he was spent, he felt himself starting to grow hard again. "Pervert." he managed to mumble an insult, but it fell flat as his voice was far too shaky to be taken seriously. Not to mention his blush had made a return, his face bright red all the way up to the tips of his ears.

"You taste better than I ever imagined." the dragon purred, slipping back into the water.

Anduin couldn't help but wonder what else Wrathion had imagined.


	4. Lion's Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We interrupt your regularly scheduled smut to bring you awkward sex talks, courtesy of your adoptive aunt's boyfriend.

Anduin clutched the missive tightly, his gaze wandering towards the tomb at the far end of Lion's Rest. It had been an unexpected request, but he suspected he knew the cause. After his brief conversation with Jaina where she had carefully probed into his relationship with Wrathion, he knew she had started this. After all, Aunty Jaina had been in a relationship with a dragon for many years now, and while Kalecgos was a member of the blue dragonflight, he was still a dragon. No doubt he was going to lecture Anduin on how foolish it was to be so invested in a black dragon, didn't he know how dangerous it was, etcetera, etcetera. As much as he loved Jaina, he really wished she wouldn't pry into his private affairs so much. He was young, but he was King and a talented priest at that — if Wrathion proved to be a problem, he could handle it.

He straightened up slightly as he caught sight of the familiar male, that unusual blue hair standing out amongst the soldiers and gardeners. He resisted the urge to sigh or pull a face, reaching out to grasp the dragon's hand. Warm, but not as warm as Wrathion was. "Kalec, it's been a while. How are you?" he said pleasantly, flashing the male a smile. Even if he was here for a lecture, he had always been good at being diplomatic.

"Busy, as always. But not as busy as you, I hear." he released the blonde's hand, gesturing for them to take a seat on one of the park benches. So, they were getting straight to the matter at hand, it seemed. "I hear you've gotten quite close to Wrathion." he said cautiously.

"You've no idea how many times I've heard this lecture, Kalec. Greymane, Shaw, they've all warned me about him." he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I understand, I really do. I know Jaina is worried about me and I appreciate her concern, but I really don't need to hear it again."

"Lecture?" the dragon blinked at him, visibly confused. "Jaina didn't send me here to lecture you, Anduin. She's worried that Wrathion might become a problem, but she knows you'll do the right thing if that happens. She can be a bit pessimistic sometimes." he smiled ruefully.

This time, it was Anduin's turn to be confused. "If you're not here to lecture me, then why are you here? You wouldn't come out all this way just to ask me how I am." he protested.

Kalecgos looked a little uncomfortable, as though he was unsure how best to proceed. "I am not your father, so this isn't my place. But no human father would need to give you this advice, so I hope you'll forgive me for overstepping any boundaries." he said carefully.

Oh no. _Oh no_. Having the conversation about the birds and the bees with his father had been bad enough, but now Kalecgos wanted to have it? Anduin immediately began trying to come up with an excuse to leave, something to change the topic, anything—

"Hear me out. Wrathion isn't human. I don't know how much experience you've had with humans, and it's none of my business, but dragons are vastly different." he held up a hand, looking as uncomfortable as Anduin felt. "Dragons are possessive. While not always the rule, we prefer to mate for life."

Anduin blinked, feeling that damnable blush creeping up onto his cheeks. "Now I see why Jaina sent you." he grumbled. It'd be too awkward to talk about such things with him, so she sent Kalec instead.

"Jaina is only worried about you. You don't have to listen to me if you truly don't want to, but I only want to offer some advice." he said simply. "What you do with that advice is your choice, and neither Jaina nor myself will interfere. Both of us would like nothing more than to see you happy and in love." he admitted.

Anduin sank lower on the bench, glad they were having this conversation away from the Keep. No doubt Shaw had sent his spies to keep watch over him, but he couldn't see anyone suspicious. Then again, SI:7 was too good to be spotted so easily. "Alright, I get it. I'll listen." he said wearily. He found he'd much rather have a lecture than this uncomfortable conversation.

"Thank you. I'll try to make it as brief as possible." he inclined his head. "Emotionally, there's not much difference between a dragon and a human. Sometimes we partner for love, sometimes to reproduce. Same as humans. But the younger the dragon, the harder it is to separate emotion from instinct." he explained, looking out at the gardens.

"What do you mean, instinct?"

"Because dragons typically pair for life, we're quite possessive. As we mature and spend time with other races, it's easier to remind ourselves that — if our partner isn't human — our partner might not always feel the way we do." he said simply. "If our partner decides to end the relationship, for whatever reason, it's hard to accept. Older dragons can put aside that instinct and understand it, but a younger dragon might not be capable of it."

"You're saying that if I wanted to end my relationship with Wrathion, he wouldn't want to let me go?" he asked.

"Possibly, yes. He's young, especially for a dragon. I'm not saying you would end it, or he would react negatively, but it's something to be aware of, just in case." he explained. "I know you're quite close, but if this is just a... fling... I would advise you to be careful. If Wrathion doesn't understand that, it could be disastrous for you both." he warned.

Anduin shook his head, unable to get his blush to retreat. "I understand, but it's not just a fling. As King, I know I should look for a partner who can give me an heir, but if I'm going to marry, it will be someone I love." he said firmly, glancing up at the dragon. "It's selfish, but I don't want to be trapped in a relationship with someone based solely on political reasons."

Kalecgos nodded his assent, his expression suggesting that he was quite in agreement on that point. "I see. Which brings me to the physical." at the blonde's pained expression, he laughed, not unkindly. "I know, but it's important. If things get... heated... between you two, it would benefit you to know what to expect."

Anduin flushed. He hadn't realised it was so blatantly obvious he was that inexperienced; he would've expected Shaw to know, what with his spies everywhere, and Greymane's sense of smell was unfairly keen, but Kalecgos? That was just embarrassing.

The dragon gave him an apologetic smile before he continued. "Because we're possessive, we like to mark our partners."

Anduin didn't think it was possible for his face to get any hotter. He could probably stand at the docks and serve as a beacon for nearby ships, with how bright his blush was. "Mark..?"

"Typically, by biting. Usually the nape of the neck, sometimes other, more easily hidden places." he admitted. "That's why I know you two haven't been intimate. Your ponytail would reveal any mark there, and I would smell him on you stronger than I do now if you had."

Oh, how desperately Anduin wanted to throw himself off the nearby cliff and swim away, away to where no one knew his name.

"It's not just a one-way claim, either. If he marked you like that, he would expect you to mark him similarly—"

"But my teeth aren't as sharp as a dragon's." he protested, before he could help himself.

"It doesn't necessarily have to be a bite. That's for you to decide." he said with a wry smile. Typical dragons, always looking so smug. "But there's another problem with Wrathion biting you."

 _Other than the fact that this conversation makes me want to smite myself?_ thought Anduin.

"Black dragons are closely linked to the earth, especially those without the taint of corruption." at Anduin's confused expression, he continued. "They are creatures of magma and fire, neither of which is particularly good for a human. I'm sure you've noticed that he's much warmer than the average human. If he's not in full control of himself, he could very well burn you terribly." before Anduin could point out that he was a priest, he could always heal it, Kalecgos resumed speaking. "If you're lucky, it could just be a minor burn. But if you're not..." his expression turned sympathetic. "Imagine having magma dripping onto your flesh. I'm afraid there might not be much left to heal." he said gravely.

The thought hadn't occurred to Anduin. He knew Wrathion ran hot, of course. Back in Pandaria, they had often spent the night stargazing at Mason's Folly, with Wrathion curled up against him to share his warmth. He knew those fangs were a danger and he had seen firsthand the male breathing fire, but he hadn't considered the two of them in tandem, during such an intimate moment. "Ah. I... I can see how that could be a problem." he grimaced. A bite, he could handle. It wouldn't be the worst pain he'd suffered, not by a long shot. Magma, not so much.

"If you believe he can control himself, and he can remain in his human form, then you should have nothing to fear. But be cautious." he said softly. "The other dragonflights don't trust the black dragons after what happened, but it does my soul a world of good to see an uncorrupted black dragon, and that you're so fond of him speaks volumes for his character." he said honestly, rising to his feet. "Personally, I think you would be good for him. You're a great man, Anduin Wrynn. Anyone would be lucky to have someone like you." he smiled.

At last, the painfully awkward conversation was over. _Thank the Light._ "You're very kind, Kalec. As awkward as it is, thank you for the advice." Anduin rose as well, inclining his head in a slight bow. He could never truly bow to another who was lower in status than a King, but the dragons were very old and powerful beings deserving of respect, especially the former Aspects. "Tell Jaina I wish her well." he added.

"Of course. I'm sure I'll see you again, Anduin. Perhaps next time, as a brother of sorts." with a sly smile that made Anduin's face warm yet again, the dragon turned and strode out of the garden, presumably to open a portal to Dalaran.

He had never been more glad for a conversation to be finished. He liked Kalecgos, he really did, and he knew Jaina was only looking out for him, but sending her dragon lover to warn him about his own dragon lover was... well, just shy of humiliating. He made a mental note to have a word with Jaina the next time he got the chance, but Kalecgos had given him some interesting things to consider.


	5. Old Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mathias Shaw is already stressed - being Spymaster is a lot of work. He makes a bad decision and now he has a whole lot of mess to fix. Thanks, Flynn.

The Spymaster was having a dilemma. The King of Stormwind, the High King of the Alliance, the young Anduin Wrynn, was having an affair with a black dragon. Not just any black dragon, but Wrathion; the self-proclaimed Black Prince, the son of Deathwing the Destroyer. That was bad enough. But when one of Wrathion's Blacktalon Agents had passed on an usual well-worn book to one of his own spies, a new problem had come to light. One that was causing a great deal of headaches for the Spymaster. One of many, but one of the more serious.

One of the less serious problems was currently using the tip of Shaw's letter opener to clean his fingernails, his boots up on Shaw's desk. It took all of his self control not to draw one of his many knives and sink it into his leg. In a surprisingly perceptive moment for the ex-pirate, Flynn Fairwind lifted his head to look at him. "What's eating you?" he said simply, his once-obnoxious Kul Tiran accent now annoyingly familiar.

"It's nothing."

"Come off it. You're getting a new wrinkle, mate." he protested, finally putting down the letter opener and taking his feet off the desk. Finally. "So, what is it that's got you in a tizzy?"

Shaw scowled at him, but he sat back in his chair. Flynn was like a dog with a bone, if he didn't tell him now, the man would never stop pestering him about it. "Wrathion." he said bluntly.

"Ah, the King's squeeze? The black dragon?" he asked curiously. "I can see the appeal, honestly. Anduin's pretty cute, but it takes a lot of balls to hit on a king." he mused. "Is it that he's a kid? Tides, by the time I was his age I'd already—"

"Fairwind."

"What?"

"Not helping."

"So what's the problem then? Just 'cause he's a black dragon? Looks like he'd be wicked fun to pub crawl with though..."

"Fairwind." he repeated, trying to get the conversation back on track. " _This_ is the problem." he pushed the book towards the Captain, who immediately scowled at it like it had confiscated his whiskey.

"What's that?"

"A book."

"Yes, thank you, I see that."

"It's a book about black dragons. Observations made prior to the Cataclysm, although the background behind those observations is a bit vague." he explained. "Someone went to great lengths to study them, and one of Wrathion's agents made sure this book made its way to me."

"Okay, so... They want you to know more about black dragons?"

"Specifically, about how dragons mate. And the problems that come with mating with a human." he clarified, gesturing for him to take a look.

The Captain nodded slowly, then brightened. "That sounds like a fairly good read, raunchy stuff..." he reached for the book, flipping for a few pages, only for his eager expression to gradually turn to one of shock. "Ah, wait... That's not..."

"Not pleasant, is it?"

Flynn looked at him, eyes wide as it suddenly clicked into place. "Oh. _Oh_. Does Anduin know this?"

"This book is older than both of us combined, and unless Wrathion has told him—"

"Would Wrathion tell him?"

Shaw's eyes narrowed slightly. "What?"

"Well... isn't Wrathion pretty young too? Would he even think about telling him? _'Scuse me King Anduin, if I blow you I might melt off your—_ "

"Fairwind."

"Right. Got it. Maybe someone should talk to him before he maims the King? I doubt that'd go down well with the Alliance. Or, y'know, Anduin." he suggested. "Just don't be too harsh on the kid. I mean... Tides, you're dating _me_. I don't think you get to lecture him. Either of them, really."

Shaw gazed at him for a moment, his expression contemplative. He knew Anduin reasonably well, and he considered himself a good judge of character. He doubted Anduin would instigate anything, but Wrathion didn't have the same reservations. And since Wrathion and the Spymaster didn't get along in the slightest... "What did you say about a pub crawl?"

Flynn almost fell out of his chair. "Oh, uh, nothing?" he fumbled, hoping to avoid another complaint about his drinking habits. "Why?"

"You said it yourself, Wrathion would be fun to pub crawl with." he shrugged. "Invite him out. Make sure he listens to you. Remind him that Anduin is human."

"You've lost your mind, mate. You're joking." he protested. "This is a terrible idea and you know I'll fuck it up—"

Shaw let out a sigh, but he still had his trump card left. "I need you to do this for me." he began, reaching into one of the drawers of his desk. "Take this with you." he tossed a bag of coin onto the desk, enough gold coins to buy at least half the alcohol in the city. "You're the only one I know who could out-drink a dragon."

Flynn immediately perked up as he grabbed the bag, his lips curling into a wide grin as the coins clinked together with a satisfying sound. "I'll do my very best, Master Shaw." he promised, only to pause with a mischievous smile on his face. "Although... The coin's all well and good, but if I'm doing this for you... you can do something for me later."

Shaw scowled at him, trying to look as disapproving as possible, but even his iron self control couldn't stop the way those words shot straight to his crotch. He shifted imperceptibly, only to cross one leg over the other after a moment. "I'll consider it." he grunted.

With a wicked grin on his face, Flynn got to his feet and pocketed the coin. "Then I'll see you later tonight." he said cheerfully, moving to the door.

"Depends how much you drink."

"I'll bring you something nice." with a wink, the Captain was gone, and Shaw was alone in his office. He eyed the book for a long moment, hoping things wouldn't turn into a worst case scenario.

Unfortunately, things tended to do just that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a challenge to catch Wrathion away from the King, but Flynn managed it somehow. The real challenge was convincing him to join the Captain on a pub crawl. Wrathion had been dubious at first, but eventually he'd agreed, cautiously. Flynn wasn't sure which of them was more surprised by the turn of events, as the ex-pirate and the black dragon walked into the Pig and Whistle tavern.

_There's something wrong with inviting an eight year old kid to come drinking... even if he is an adult..._ he thought to himself, although he was more excited at the prospect of getting absolutely hammered and on Shaw's coin at that. Tides bless him, the Spymaster was too good to him.

Wrathion looked out of place among the riff-raff as he slipped onto a stool, his clothes much too fine for the Old Town rabble that filled the tavern. Then again, Flynn stood half a head taller than most humans there, so he couldn't really say anything.

"Wait here a sec. I'll be back." the Captain moved to the bar, asking the bartender something and slipping him several gold coins. The shorter man nodded and turned around, only to pass him a tray of drinks a moment later. Flynn carried it back to the table with ease — the one time he was sure-footed was when he could possibly spill his alcohol, of course — and sat down opposite the dragon. "Alrighty, you and me, we're gonna play a little game. I hear you dragons can really hold your liquor, so we're gonna test that." he grinned.

Wrathion rolled his eyes, but he leaned forward. "Against you?" he glanced at the tray, counting the glasses. One dozen small glasses of amber liquid, and judging from the smell, they were probably the strongest thing the tavern had. "You might want to get some friends." he said dryly.

The ex-pirate laughed. "Oh, mate. I can out-drink half the tavern on a bad night, I'm sure I can take you on." he was confident, especially given Wrathion's age. Sure, being a dragon gave him an advantage, but Flynn knew his own limits. "We're gonna make a little game out of this. It's pretty popular back home, _Never have I_. You say something you've never done, and I take a drink if I've done it. Then we swap."

The dragon's lips curled into a wicked smile. "I hear you've got some interesting stories of your own. This game might actually be fair." he nodded, looking rather pleased. "You're on. And since you're paying, you can have the honor of going first." he reached out, setting a glass before each of them.

"We'll start off with something easy, eh? Never have I... kissed an orc." he said lightly, although he really, really wanted to see Wrathion drink to that one. What a story that would make! Hopefully he could get some interesting information for Shaw, something to impress him with at least.

Wrathion shook his head. "But not for want of trying." he teased. "My turn. Never have I slept with the Spymaster of SI:7." he shot back.

Flynn winced, not sure he wanted to know how Wrathion knew. Well, he could probably smell Shaw on him. That, or he snooped as much as Shaw's spies. "Alright, you got me there." he admitted, reaching for his glass. He knocked it back in one go, then set it back on the tray, upside down. "Never have I... smacked a king's ass." he retorted.

Wrathion grinned back at him, not a shred of remorse on his face. "Ah, it's _this_ kind of game. My favorite." he chuckled, pausing to drink his own shot. He winced at the taste, but he turned the glass and set it down. "Never have I crashed a ship."

Flynn reached for his glass, only to pause and tilt his head. "How crashed we talking, mate?" he said cautiously.

"Crashed as in your ship hit something it shouldn't have hit. Crashed."

The Captain sighed and tipped back his glass, trying to ignore Wrathion's smug grin. "Yeah, yeah, laugh now, but it wasn't my fault." he grumbled. "You try sailing through naga infested waters in the middle of a storm while your hold is on fire. Not as easy as it sounds. Now. Never have I had the chance to screw a king." he drawled.

Wrathion hesitated, visibly gauging Flynn's response as he reached for his glass. "I was wondering why you invited me out tonight." he murmured, grimacing at the taste of the alcohol. It was easier this time, but he wasn't feeling much yet. Not even a little tipsy, but his nerves felt alight. "Never have I been sent by a Spymaster to investigate a dragon." he said pointedly.

Flynn nodded sheepishly before knocking back his glass. "It's not what you're thinking." he explained, setting the empty glass down. "Anduin's a big kid, Shaw says he's a talented priest even if he's shit with a blade." he shrugged. "He can take care of himself. Shaw's just worried—"

"I'm not my father." Wrathion was glaring at him, and Flynn was already starting to regret saying anything. But Shaw had given him a job, and he didn't want to disappoint.

"It's not that, mate." he hesitated, trying to think of a way to explain that wouldn't end with him being turned into a smoking pile of ash. "Look... One of your guys passed a book to one of Shaw's guys. Dragon biology." that made Wrathion's anger die down, but his expression was still suspicious. "Tides, this is ridiculous... Anduin is human, you're not. Shaw's worried you'll accidentally hurt him if you lose control while you're..." Flynn waved his hands helplessly before settling on a crude gesture.

Wrathion snorted, but averted his gaze. "That wouldn't happen. I'm young, but I have control of myself." he said curtly. "I assume you'll pass this on to the Spymaster, but if I ever hurt Anduin, it would be on his own request. I am _not_ a mindless beast." he said haughtily, but he no longer seemed as furious as before.

Flynn held his hands up in surrender. "Don't give me that look, this wasn't my idea. Well... the drinking was, not the questioning." he admitted. "But Anduin is king, y'know. Of course people are gonna worry about him. You could be cuddly and adorable and Shaw would still worry. Bloke's got his fingers in all the pies."

For a long moment, Wrathion was silent and his expression was unreadable. But then his lips twitched into a wry smile. "Sounds like you've got something in his pie." he said crudely. "Now... we have more drinks. Unless you're conceding the win to me?" he rose a brow.

"Not a chance! Never have I gotten so drunk I've woken up without my trousers. Everything else, sure. But I usually manage to keep my trousers!"

The dragon knocked back his glass in the time it took Flynn to realise what that meant.

"You're joking. You're what, eight?"

"Almost nine, actually." he agreed. "Dragons mature differently to humans. I'm physically and mentally equal to a human in his mid twenties. Compared to other dragons however, I'm still young." he shrugged. "My turn. Never have I taken an eight year old drinking." he said smugly.

"Aw, come on! That's not fair..." Flynn hung his head but reached for his drink. They were more than halfway through the drinks, and Flynn was already enjoying a pleasant buzz. Wrathion didn't seem nearly as affected, but Flynn wasn't going to lose. "If you're not playing fair, neither am I!" he warned.

"You're on, old man."

"Oi, watch it."

With the tension between them gone, the night was proving to be an interesting one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Fairshaw tho??? Just let these dorks be happy pls
> 
> Also these two need constant supervision, double date where Anduin and Shaw just bitch about dating dumbasses


	6. Stormwind Keep, Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In what came as a surprise to absolutely no one, it turned out that mixing alcohol and a competitive dragon was a bad idea. Anduin has a headache, and its name is Wrathion.

Anduin gestured for the next petitioner to step up to the throne, glancing at the scribe to make sure everything was going smoothly. "Yes?"

Two men stood together, one glaring at the other. The taller of the two stepped forward, the cloth of his tunic struggling to contain his paunch. "This man has been stealing grain from my farm, and now I've finally caught the bugger." he called out, his voice echoing in the chamber.

"I was just trying to feed my family, m'lord!" interrupted the other man. He was notably older than the accuser, the right side of his face heavily scarred. "I've got two boys, one is four and the other is just a babe. I had no choice, they'd starve without that grain."

The dispute wasn't anything unusual, especially of late. The more wealthy farmers were hoarding their crops and raising the prices until it was almost extortion, and it often led to good men stealing to get by.

"Throw him in the Stockade, my King! We can't tolerate thieves like him!"

Anduin held up a hand to silence him, studying the two of them for a long moment before he finally spoke. "How much grain did he steal? How much was it worth?"

The man licked his lips, hesitating before he spoke. "About twenty gold, give or take a few silver." he said eventually. "I struggle to make eighty gold a season, and he's cost me as much."

The King nodded slowly, sky blue eyes turning to survey the thief. "I understand your situation, I really do. But theft is not the answer. If you steal from others, other families go without." before the man could protest, he gestured for silence. "However, I understand it was a crime of need. You owe this man twenty gold, and since you can't afford it, you shall work off your debt." he decided. "A portion of your pay will be withheld to repay your debt, and the rest of your pay will be given to you as grain."

The two men seemed surprised, but not entirely displeased. The farmer would get a farmhand for the cost of a small amount of grain, and the thief would no longer have to resort to stealing. "Thank you, Your Highness." the older man bowed, his expression truly grateful.

With a shrug, the farmer glanced at the other male. "I'll draw up a contract this afternoon. You'll have enough grain for your family. If your boys want farm work when they're older, they can work for me." the two walked out of the Petitioner's Chamber, discussing the various terms.

Anduin let out a sigh once they were gone, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was just one problem after another, but he was more worried about Wrathion. The dragon came and went as he pleased, but it was rare for him to be gone so long. After their rather _heated_ bath, they had gone back to Anduin's quarters and almost immediately gone straight to sleep rather than discuss what happened between them. It had been two days after that incident that Kalecgos had spoken to him, and the same day Wrathion had disappeared. He hadn't thought much about it until the dragon didn't come back to Anduin's quarters at night, finding it rather odd to sleep alone for once. He had made a mental reminder to inquire about him come morning, but he had other responsibilities to attend to first.

The cathedral bell chimed across the city, drawing him out of his thoughts. Better to go ask someone who would know. There were no more petitioners to see to, so he was free to leave. Mathias Shaw had an office in the Keep he rarely used, so there was no point checking there. He'd likely be in his apartment or at the SI:7 headquarters. Anduin kept to the quieter streets on the way, trying to keep from drawing too much attention. It was hardly rare for him to visit the Spymaster, but this was for a personal matter.

It didn't take long for him to make it to the Old Town district, climbing up the stairs to the SI:7 headquarters. One of Shaw's spies was leaning against the entrance and tinkering with something, a gnome with pink hair who perked up at the sight of the King. "Oh, King Anduin! Are you looking for Shaw?" she asked excitedly. "He said to meet him at the Pig and Whistle."

Anduin murmured his thanks, although he was a bit surprised. Shaw wasn't much for drinking — the few times Anduin had offered him a glass of wine, he'd always refused — but the Spymaster's new lover certainly loved his alcohol. It wasn't like Shaw to be so unprofessional as to meet in a tavern, so he knew something must be about.

No amount of warning could've braced himself for the chaos he saw as he stepped into the tavern. Shaw was by the bar, talking to a very flustered bartender who kept gesturing emphatically at the tables and chairs scattered everywhere. Flynn was asleep, sprawled across one of the tables. And there, in the middle of all the chaos, was a black dragon. Wrathion was fast asleep, snoring heavily, his wings halfway unfurled. There was a broken table beneath him, although now it resembled kindling more than a table.

Anduin carefully stepped through the mess, avoiding the puddle of alcohol near Wrathion, and made his way up to the bar. "What in the world happened here?" he demanded.

Shaw turned to face him, and for the first time since Anduin had met him, he actually looked sheepish. "These two fools went out drinking together, and it seems to have gotten out of hand." he sighed, rubbing his face. "My apologies, Anduin. It was my suggestion, but I didn't think it would get this bad." he admitted.

Anduin blinked, caught off guard. "It was your suggestion?" he repeated dumbly. There had been tension between Shaw and Wrathion since the latter arrived in Stormwind, but he supposed it made sense for Shaw to send a proxy instead. "Why?"

The Spymaster shrugged, stepping away from the rather bemused bartender. "Firstly, I'm concerned about the two of you. I imagine Wrathion will explain what happened once he wakes up, but I also wanted Fairwind out of my hair for a while." he said dryly. "He's a good man, just... distracting."

As if on cue, Flynn let out a muffled groan and lifted his head up, blinking as he looked up at the two of them. "Ugh... morning, lads..." he mumbled. "Tides, is that you Anduin?" he looked towards the blonde, bleary-eyed and confused. "Wait... what're you doing here?"

Anduin almost jumped out of his skin as Shaw suddenly dumped a mug of water over the Captain, who spluttered and almost fell off the table. "What was that for?" he whined, wiping his face on his sleeve. At least he was awake now, and finally understanding what was going on. "Oh. Um. Right... I guess you want an explanation..." he scratched his head, looking around at the destroyed furniture. "Well... We were going on a pub crawl, but we didn't make it past the first one." he admitted. "We, uh..." he looked at Anduin as though pleading for the King not to smite him for his confession. "It was just a drinking game, how was I supposed to know Wrathion is that competitive?" he protested.

Anduin glanced over at the still sleeping dragon, raising a brow. Well, that explained the mess. "I see..." he said slowly, starting to get an idea of what had happened. Even though Anduin usually beat the dragon at the games they played — except for Jihui, which usually ended with Wrathion thrashing him for playing fair — Wrathion always insisted on playing again. Competitive was an understatement, to say the least.

Judging from the ex-pirate's discomforted expression, he was suffering a particularly bad hangover. Anduin wasn't sure if he could even heal a hangover — a headache he could manage, but not the full-body queasy feeling — but when he reached out to try, Shaw grasped his arm. "Leave him be. He brought this on himself." he said dryly. "Besides, he'll be fine once he gets some water in him. See to your dragon instead."

"He's not—" he broke off into a sulky silence at the knowing look he received from the Spymaster. There was no point trying to hide anything from Shaw. The man knew everything that went on, often before it even happened. Of course he'd know about Anduin's feelings for the dragon. "I might need a lot more water." he murmured, regarding the dragon sprawled out across the floor. At least no one had gotten injured, but he didn't look forward to waking him up. At first, he considered trying to heal the hangover that he would most likely wake up to, but he decided against it. Anduin was going to have to do damage control to the tavern owner because of Wrathion's behavior, so fair was fair.

The bartender cleared his throat, setting a bucket of water on the bar for him. "I'm not waking no dragon. Get him good for me, King Anduin. But don't be too harsh on him. He brought in a huge crowd all by himself last night, I made more gold than I would in a month. Everyone wants to see a dancing dragon." he said cheerfully. "Don't worry too much about the mess either. It's not the worst thing that's happened here."

Anduin picked up the bucket, carried it over to Wrathion, and proceeded to dump it on his head.

The dragon jolted awake, scrambling for a moment to right himself, his claws crushing the already ruined table beneath him. "What?" he shook himself, steam rising from his scales as the water evaporated from the heat. "Anduin?" he blinked, turning his massive head to look at him. "Hnnnn..." he paused for a second, looking rather queasy. "Head hurts." he dropped his head back down to the table, his eyes half closed.

"And whose fault is that?"

"Flynn's fault." he grumbled, a plume of smoke rising as he gave a snort. "Stupid man."

"Oi, mate. Don't be mad just because you lost." the Captain groaned, batting away Shaw's offered hand as he stumbled to his feet.

Wrathion growled, the sound reverberating through his chest. "Come here so I can eat you."

"That's enough you two." interrupted Anduin. "Unless you want me to get another bucket of water, that is." he turned back to Wrathion, who was glaring up at him half-heartedly. "If you want me to help you back to the Keep, you need to change back. I can't do anything with you like this." he pointed out.

The dragon snorted his displeasure and rolled onto his side, the ruined table splintering and creaking in protest. "Mm... I prefer sleep." his eyes slipped closed, but then he reached out a clawed foot and yanked the King closer, wrapping him up in one of his wings before the blonde could even protest.

"Wrathion!" he squirmed under his wing, managing to get his head free at least. "Get up, you overgrown lizard!" he tried to ignore the laughter coming from Flynn, but Shaw's amused little grunt made his face flush. "Damn it, Wrathion! Let me up!"

"Hush." the dragon merely tightened his wing around the struggling blonde, ignoring his protests. "It's time to sleep."

"It's afternoon! It's not time to sleep!" he growled, trying to get an arm free at least. "By the Light, if you don't let me up I'm going to find the deepest, darkest hole I can find, and I'm going to bury you in it!" he elbowed the male on the side, but his scales just bruised his elbow.

"Do you need assistance, Anduin?"

Anduin couldn't see the Spymaster, but he could very well imagine the smug look on his face. "I'm fine!" he grumbled. Time to resort to desperate measures. A brilliant golden glow began to form, so bright it revealed the bones in Wrathion's wing. But then the light became a blast, catching Wrathion's wing and almost flipping him, allowing Anduin to tumble free of his grasp, his hands glowing brightly. "Sorry." he gasped, letting the Light fade as he stumbled to his feet.

Wrathion righted himself and bared his teeth in a growl, but it was a sound that quickly turned to laughter. "So the little lion has some fight in him." he chuckled. "If I promise to behave, will you cure me of this thrice-damned headache?" he lifted his head, but then his form was enveloped in smoke. Wrathion stepped forwards, now in his humanoid form, although he looked incredibly dishevelled

"If you can get back to the Keep without causing any problems, I'll think about it." he frowned at the dragon before he turned to look at the Spymaster. "I trust you can handle Fairwind."

Shaw nodded, helping the Captain to his feet. "I'll take care of things here as well. While it's already common knowledge that you have a black dragon in the Keep, it's best not to draw too much attention to that fact." he warned. "No matter how funny a dancing dragon might be."

Flynn slung an arm around the Spymaster's shoulders, a goofy grin on his face. "Don't worry, your royal highness... I'll take care of this cranky sod for you." he promised. But then he frowned at Wrathion. "I'm not done with you yet."

"Don't you start up again." Anduin warned, even as he moved to get a firm grasp on Wrathion's arm. "As for you... You need a bath. You stink of alcohol." he pulled a face as the dragon tried to lean in for a kiss, but Wrathion didn't seem to care. When he still wouldn't give up, Anduin reached up to press his hand to his face and push him back.

Wrathion almost pouted at him, but he finally settled for leaning against him instead. "Fine... bath sounds good, especially if it's like—" he winced as Anduin began dragging him towards the door, freeing a hand to rub at his face. "Headache..." he grumbled, but at least he didn't struggle.

_Thank the Light he didn't finish his sentence,_ thought Anduin. Shaw had already seen him in an undignified situation, the last thing he needed was for Wrathion to accidentally blab about their shared bath. "I'll send for you later, Shaw." he promised, resisting the urge to shove Wrathion out the tavern door.

Once they were out on the street, Anduin finally turned his gaze to the male. "A dancing dragon?" he demanded. "I thought you were trying not to draw attention to yourself? This is the exact opposite of subtle, you know." he pointed out. "What happened?"

Wrathion was silent as they walked along, squinting a little in the bright afternoon sun. "Flynn wanted to go on a pub crawl. I've never been, so I thought it might be fun." he admitted. "One thing led to another and we went from playing a drinking game about things we've never done to... to dares, really."

"Flynn dared you to dance?"

"Please don't remind me."

"Were you dancing like this? Or as a dragon? On one of the tables?"

Wrathion grimaced. "Dragon, I think. I know I was like this when I climbed up but... Next thing I remember I was lying on the ground with half a table sticking in my scales, and I think I fell asleep."

Anduin was silent as they made the trek back to the Keep, although he took a small bit of sadistic pleasure in Wrathion's discomfort as he staggered up the stairs. "It's not much of a pub crawl if you don't leave the first pub." he murmured. "But I have to ask... which of you can drink more alcohol? I know you're a dragon, but—"

"Flynn."

"Really?"

"Stupid man... calls himself a Captain, he's more of a fish than a sailor." he grumbled. "He's got more experience than I do, I'll give him that. Knows his limits."

"Was he dancing on a table?"

"No."

"I would've liked to see you dance, you know. You do realise I'm never going to let you live this down." he said dryly.

"Shush."

They climbed the stairs in silence, Wrathion leaning against Anduin more and more as they began to reach the top. He tried to act as though he wasn't bothered, but it was obvious to Anduin that he was suffering from a particularly bad hangover. Anduin didn't drink much himself, occasionally having a single glass of wine with his dinner or while he read, and he'd only been hungover a few times in his life. It had never been serious, but while he had healed his headache, he wasn't sure if he could do anything for the rest of the hangover.

Finally, they reached the top of the stairs, much to the amusement of the nearby guards. They saluted Anduin as he passed, but more than a few of them looked rather entertained as their King dragged his hungover advisor up the stairs and into the Keep itself.

"So... does that bath include the company of his most esteemed royal highness?" Wrathion murmured, once they were out of earshot of the nearby guards.

Anduin sighed. "If only to make sure you don't accidentally drown yourself."

"Good enough for me."

* * *

Anduin almost had to fight to get the dragon up the stairs to the bathroom, listening to him complain the whole way. Finally, Anduin closed the door behind them and pushed Wrathion down to sit on the stone bench, taking a seat beside him. "Quit complaining, let me see if I can help." he grumbled, reaching a hand out.

Wrathion had been about to bat his hand away, but he perked up instead. "Really? This headache is truly awful." he groaned.

Calling upon the Light, his hands began to glow with that warm golden radiance. "I've never tried to heal a hangover before. I don't know if I can." he warned. "But I'll try my best." his eyes closed as he pressed his hand to the male's chest, trying not to think of the way his skin was warm against his palm or the way he could feel the dragon's heart beat, slow and steady.

The dragon gave a sigh of relief as the wave of magic hit him, immediately feeling his headache lessen. It didn't quite help the subtle nausea plaguing him, but he'd settle for getting rid of the headache. "Much better." his eyes closed, his body relaxing.

Finally, Anduin let the Light fade away, the glow slowly disappearing from his hand. "I'm sorry I can't do more—"

"Don't apologise. I suppose I can suffer through the discomfort for a while." he shrugged, leaning his head back. He was the very picture of relaxed, but slowly his lips began to curl into a smile. "Especially if you keep your hand there. Maybe a little lower?" he suggested slyly.

Anduin felt that familiar warmth creep onto his face again, and for a moment he was unsure how to proceed. His first instinct was to pull his hand away and admonish him, but something in him hesitated. He was still mad that Wrathion had caused such a scene in the tavern, but seeing him so relaxed made something tighten in his chest. Before he made a decision, Wrathion opened an eye.

"You can take that as a joke, if you prefer." he murmured, his voice surprisingly gentle. "I know things happened last time, but I'll understand if you don't want to continue like that. I don't expect you to—" he broke off with a sharp breath as Anduin's hand dropped down suddenly, now resting on his thigh. "Ah. I'm not challenging you, I'm just—"

Anduin relished in the look of surprise as his hand slipped between the dragon's thighs, leaning forward to press his lips to his throat. "You stink of whiskey." he murmured, glad that his position hid his blush from the male. His body had moved on reflex before he'd even made up his mind on what to do — not that he really wanted to stop, especially with the way Wrathion was caught off guard.

"And as always, you're too good to me." the dragon hummed low in his throat, his eyes slipping closed again as he wrapped an arm around the blonde and pulled him into an embrace instead. "I could just... stay like this forever." he said wistfully. "It wouldn't be so bad. There are worse things than having a very attractive king shower you with affection." he chuckled softly, tracing random shapes on the blonde's back with his thumb. "I do apologise for causing such a scene... I thought it was a good idea at the time. But I quite like that Fairwind fellow. We have the same tastes, it seems. Straight-laced, no-nonsense types, who somehow tolerate our nonsense." he teased.

Anduin leaned into his shoulder, inhaling his scent. Musky yet somewhat smokey, and currently ruined by the smell of cheap alcohol. "It's good to see you getting along with someone other than me." he admitted, his lips curving into a smile against his throat. "But next time you decide to dance on a table, I want to see."

The dragon gave a snort of laughter. "How about a private dance, just for you? And here I was expecting you to lecture me about propriety." he teased.

"Don't worry, that's coming later. Once you feel better."

"I look forward to it."

They stayed like that for a while, content to enjoy each other's touch. But eventually, Wrathion turned to press a kiss to his forehead. "I believe I came here for a bath..." he flashed a grin at the male, carefully untangling himself. "If you wish to be a terrible influence on me, I won't complain, but at least let me wash off the stench of tavern floor." he joked.

"I am _not_ a terrible influence. That's all you." he sniffed, giving the dragon a small shove. "Go on, get to it. Before I push you in."

Wrathion looked offended, holding his hands up in surrender. "Absolutely not. You'll ruin my clothes." he said indignantly. "Wait until I've undressed, at least."

Anduin opened his mouth to utter a scathing retort, but Wrathion caught him by the wrist and pulled him close until they were mere inches apart. "Should you wish for me in that manner, I shall be happy to oblige you." he murmured. "But I would prefer if you weren't trying to impress me by doing so. I am capable of being patient, and I refuse to rush you into anything." he closed the distance between them, only to kiss him softly. No teeth, no tongue, just a sweet, gentle kiss. When the dragon finally pulled away, he was smirking. "Not that I'd object to sweeping you off your feet and ravishing you right here, but even I'm capable of being a gentleman. Sometimes."

Anduin was much too stunned to formulate a response before Wrathion gently pushed him outside the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

_Well... that was unfair._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been slow updating this lately but don't worry, I'm still writing! I'm two chapters ahead, I just need to edit them haha


	7. Old Town, Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We take a break from our regularly scheduled Wranduin to watch as Shaw judges Flynn very, very hard.

"That was a bust. I'm not sure why I thought that was a good idea." the Spymaster sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Did you manage to speak to Wrathion about anything important, or did you two get straight to the drinking?"

Flynn, sprawled out on the floor of Shaw's office with his arm covering his face, gave a displeased little grumble. "Have some faith in me, love." he moved his arm to peek up at the male, almost pouting. "Wrathion said that if he ever hurts Anduin, it'll be because Anduin wants him to. He said he won't have a problem controlling himself either." he paused. "Kid's a bit twitchy. Really doesn't like being compared to his dad."

"If your dad was Deathwing, would you want to be compared to him?" he asked wryly.

"Well... No. But wait, do you really think Anduin is into that?"

"Into what?"

Flynn sat up, only to wince and lay right back down. His hangover was mostly gone at this point, but his headache has stubbornly insisted on lingering. "Wrathion said he'd only hurt him if he asked for it... You think the King's got a stiffie for rough stuff?"

Shaw stared down at him silently for a long moment, long enough for Flynn to feel like he was being judged.

"What?"

Shaw blinked.

"Oh, don't tell me you know what he's into. I get that you're a nosy bastard, but really? Shouldn't you be keeping him safe from assassins, not prying into what he likes in the bedroom?"

"As much as you'd like to believe I spend all my time spying on people for pointless reasons, that's not what happens."

The Captain rose a brow, looking up at him. "So there's something the great Spymaster doesn't know, eh?"

"I never said that."

"Aha! So you do know!" he said smugly. "Come on, mate. Is the King into it then?"

With an incredibly heavy sigh, Shaw gave a slight shrug. "He's not exactly experienced. Before Wrathion, he's never shown any interest in anyone else. Whatever fantasies he has, he might not want to actually live them out." he explained. "But I'm not talking about his interests with you."

"Then tell me about yours."

Shaw had heard a great many things over the years, outrageous, impossible things and all sorts of scandalous gossip. None of that had ever bothered him enough to get a reaction out of him. But somehow, Flynn always managed to get a response from him. "I like silence while I work." he said tersely. Not that he ever got much silence with Flynn around.

"I know that. I'm talking the stuff that gets you all hot and bothered, the stuff you think about when you—"

"Fairwind."

"Oho! So it's little ol' me you're thinking of. I'm flattered, mate, but I already knew that." he winked. "But what about me, specifically?"

Shaw pointedly held up the report he'd been trying to read before their conversation had distracted him, his expression unreadable. "You do realise that I have work to do? And talking about my interests is pointless."

"It's not pointless." he protested. "I don't think anything you say is pointless."

Damn that stupid ex-pirate and his stupid infatuation. Shaw had once caught the tip of a blade on the side of his chest; the wound hadn't been serious, but it had hurt like hell and made his something in his chest tighten. This time he felt something similar, only instead of searing heat, he felt... warm. Fuzzy, almost. And he would absolutely under no circumstances ever admit it. Not a chance.

"Well?"

The Spymaster sighed, setting down the report. There was no point trying to read it, not when Flynn was too distracting. It took effort to decode the report on the fly, nevermind trying to do it with Flynn pestering him the whole time. "My interests, yes?"

"Yeah! I know you happen to be into roguishly handsome Kul Tirans, but what else? You into bondage, spanking, the whole kit and kaboodle?" he asked eagerly, actually pushing himself to sit up this time.

Not for the first time since they'd met, Shaw considered throwing something at him. But instead of resorting to violence — which, admittedly, would have been much more satisfying — he merely thought for a bit before he responded. "I suppose I'm rather bland, in that regard. I've always focused more on my work than on myself." he mused. "Besides, whenever I start to relax, I get... complacent."

Flynn's expression turned sympathetic. "Now that, I understand." he nodded. "But that's what you've got me for. I'm big enough and ugly enough to take care of myself, so you don't need to worry about me. You can just— oh!" he perked up suddenly. "I said I'd get you something nice, and I didn't forget!" he pulled himself to his feet, stumbling for half a step before he grabbed his coat from the hook on the door. "Here. I remember you said mentioned it before, I figured it'd be a nice surprise." the Captain was beaming as he turned back, setting a thick glass bottle on the desk. "I wasn't sure if I could get it, but I was lucky. A bottle of the finest Alterac brandy in all of Stormwind, for the finest Spymaster in all of Stormwind."

He'd expected Flynn to bring him alcohol, but he hadn't expected this. Shortly after they'd met, he'd told the man a story about an old job he'd once done. Shaw had tried an expensive brandy and had become quite fond of it, but it had merely been a brief mention. For Flynn to remember that tiny detail in one of many long conversations, he found himself quite humbled. Even though he'd given Flynn the gold, so he'd technically paid for it himself, he still appreciated the gesture.

"You're a good man, Flynn." he murmured, taking the bottle and turning it over in his hands. "I suppose I can turn a blind eye to your drunken shenanigans this time." he said dryly.

"Wait, bribery works?"

"Only this once." he chuckled. "Next time you get a dragon drunk and destroy a tavern, I'll throw you in the Stockade myself."

The Kul Tiran grinned up at him despite the threat, and Shaw thought for a moment that if he had a tail, it would be wagging furiously. "If I'd known that, I would've done a lot more than that!" he joked. "But I'll be good, promise. Next time I'll get him drunk outside, so the tavern survives." he winked.

Shaw regarded him for a long moment, studying the way the ex-pirate carried his weight. He moved like a rogue, albeit less stealthy, likely due to spending so long at sea. From his limited experience with sailing, Shaw knew it took a great deal of balance and agility to stay afoot in the most treacherous of waters, especially during storms. If only Flynn wasn't so big and noisy, he would've made the perfect spy. "Spar with me." he said suddenly.

That caught the Kul Tiran off guard. "Uh... what?" he said slowly, as charming as ever. "You've already seen how I fight, I don't think you'll see anything new."

"I want to see how you fight _me_. I was fighting beside you last time, I was busy trying not to end up dying." he clarified. "If you win, or at least manage to put up a solid fight, I'll have a drink with you." he set the bottle of brandy on the table, the look in his eyes almost mischievous.

It was an offer Flynn couldn't refuse, although he didn't like the idea of having his ass kicked by the Spymaster. He doubted he had a chance of winning unless he managed to do the impossible and take Shaw by surprise, but the offer of a drink with him was far too tempting to turn down. "You're on." he said eventually. "When?"

Shaw looked pleased, steepling his fingers and gazing at him over them. "Not now. I want you to sober up a little, get over your hangover. This evening, just before dark. There's a training area just outside SI:7 headquarters. You probably saw the training dummies on your way in."

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, I saw that. Also saw a gnome getting stuck into one of those dummies. I don't think I've ever seen someone disembowel a dummy before." he admitted. "How often do you replace those dummies, mate?"

Shaw blinked. "Daily. The men and women of SI:7 are trained by the best."

"Tides, I'm gonna get my ass kicked."

"Then you should try your best, Fairwind."

* * *

A few hours later, the sun had begun to creep below the city buildings and Flynn had gone from feeling confident to moderately worried. As soon as he stepped into the courtyard outside SI:7 headquarters, he began to believe that he had made a mistake in agreeing to a duel. Several pairs of eyes watched him curiously, but with a distanced interest. The courtyard was almost empty compared to the last time he passed through, but that didn't settle his nerves. There, sitting in the shade at the edge of the courtyard, was Shaw.

The Spymaster didn't look surprised to see him — his keen senses had already noticed the male before he even entered the courtyard — but he still had an air of mischief about him. He rose to his feet, brushing the dry grass from his armor, and rested his hands on the hilts of his swords. "Have you sobered up?" he asked casually.

Flynn blinked, but then he nodded. "Yeah... head's still a bit stuffy, but I'll be right." he admitted. "So... how're we doing this? Training weapons, or...?"

Shaw shook his head, drawing his blades. Up close, they looked an awful lot sharper than he liked. "Your normal weapons will be fine. Try to avoid anything that would be outright lethal, and you'll be fine." he suggested. He didn't think Flynn would be able to land a blow on him, let alone something actually lethal. But Shaw was nothing, if not overly prepared for every possible eventuality.

"Ah. Right. Y'know, I'm starting to think this might be a bad idea..." he said slowly, although he drew the cutlasses from his belt. Twin blades, much like Shaw's, only his own had the advantage of length. Not that it would help much. In the times that they'd fought together, Flynn had been in awe of Shaw's skill. He'd assumed he'd be on equal footing to the Spymaster, but now he was reconsidering. And yet the promise of a drink with him was _so_ tempting.

"Backing down so soon, Fairwind?"

Shaw was teasing him, expecting to get a reaction. He wasn't disappointed when the ex-pirate shook his head, rolling his shoulders. "Not a chance, mate." he said dryly. "Just... avoid my face, please. It's my best feature."

The Spymaster flashed him a slight, soft smile. "You have many good features." he said simply.

Flynn blinked, caught off guard. He barely had enough time to bring his swords up to shield himself, steel ringing out against steel as their blades connected. "Cheeky bugger—" he grunted, surprised by the sheer strength behind those daggers. Shaw was a head shorter than him, and yet he was almost embarrassingly stronger. Even without taking his strength into consideration, Shaw was _fast_. In the time it had taken Flynn to process what he said, Shaw had already lunged towards him and slashed his blades forward.

"You didn't forget why we're here, did you?" he teased, driving the Kul Tiran back half a step before the taller man regained his balance. Flynn moved back to try and put some distance between them, but the Spymaster pursued him closely, keeping their blades locked together. "I thought you were going to fight me. Don't you want to share that brandy with me?"

Flynn scowled at him, but he drove his weight forward and swept the rogue's blades down and out, bringing his leg up at the same time to kick at the male's knee. "Smartass." he grumbled.

But Shaw wasn't going to let him escape so easily. He moved with the blow, shifting his weight to his back foot, and dropped to the side suddenly. As Flynn staggered forward into the now empty space, not expecting the sudden lack of resistance, the Spymaster slapped the flat of his dagger against the back of Flynn's thigh.

"Hamstrung." he taunted, straightening up and backing off to give him a chance to recover. "You'd already be dead. Come on, Fairwind, surely you can do better than that."

Flynn gave a displeased little grunt, rubbing the back of his thigh. Even though it had been the flat of the blade, it still stung. "I figured my rugged good looks would convince you to go easy on me." he complained. "That maybe you'd take one look at me and you'd immediately fall head over heels for—" he dodged back just in time to avoid another blow, bringing one cutlass up to defend himself. "Hey now, that's hardly fair! I was waxing poetic!" he huffed.

With that sly little smile still in place, Shaw batted his cutlass aside and moved in close, close enough to smell the whiskey on the Captain's breath. "Wax poetic after you win." he teased. But then he shoved forward, trapping the Kul Tiran against the stone wall of the courtyard with one of his daggers to his throat. "You're a talented man, Fairwind. I hope you aren't going easy on me." he murmured.

Flynn swallowed. He hadn't thought about it before, but now the Spymaster was awfully close, that smaller form pressed up against him in all the right ways. The blade was the only thing that ruined the moment, and even then he found all his blood rushing south. "Uh." he said eloquently.

The Captain shifted awkwardly, and that made Shaw pause. His eyes narrowed faintly as it clicked, raising a brow in response. "Really, Fairwind?" he said mockingly. "Someone puts a knife to your throat and _that's_ your response?"

"Not just someone..." he protested weakly. "Just you." he squirmed again, pressing himself back against the wall in an attempt to keep the knife away from his neck and also to hide his arousal. "So... do I win?" he joked, trying to steer the conversation away from his excitement.

Shaw studied him for a long moment before he finally pulled away, lowering the dagger. "I said I'd share a drink with you if you beat me, or if you put up a good fight." he reminded, tucking his blades away. "So far I have to say—" he broke off into a grunt as the ex-pirate kicked out, sweeping the Spymaster's legs out from under him. He would've hit the ground hard, if not for Flynn's arm that snaked around his waist and caught him at the last second.

"That you're ridiculously impressed and you'd love to have a drink with me?" the Kul Tiran grinned down at him, only to pause and look down. Even as Shaw fell, he'd drawn a small blade from some hidden sheath within his armor, the tip now pressed to Flynn's side. "Aw, come on..." he groaned. "How many weapons do you have?"

"More than you think." the Spymaster said dryly, but he moved the blade away and pulled himself upright with Flynn's help. "Fine. Just for that, I'll drink with you, if only so you don't sulk like a kicked puppy for the next week. But don't get cocky, Fairwind. You still lost." he pointed out.

Flynn perked up, looking more than a little happy. "I'll take it." he said cheerfully, although his face flushed as the Spymaster glanced down very pointedly. "Oi, my eyes are up here mate." he protested.

Shaw raised his eyes after a moment, but there was something almost appreciative in his gaze. Something... amused. "Indeed they are." he chuckled. "If you want a drink, you'd better hurry up." he slipped the small blade away before he gestured for the male to follow.

The Kul Tiran grinned widely, slipping his blades into his belt loops before he suddenly reached out to grab his hand. Shaw merely rolled his eyes and pulled him in the direction of the Old Town district. His apartment then, not his office. Flynn's eyes widened slightly, realising they'd actually have some privacy there, but soon enough he was dragging the Spymaster along after him in his eagerness.


	8. The Veiled Stair, Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anduin gets a chance to air some of his concerns, but a new problem has begun to arise in Stormwind.

The wind wailed as it dragged in the fog, shrouding the cliffs in an impenetrable grey blanket. The morning air was icy and left everything feeling damp, the cold breeze made that much more icy. A hawk circled far above, wings outspread to catch the rising winds, seemingly oblivious to the cold.

Anduin gazed up at the bird enviously, wishing his coat was as thick as those feathers. Maybe then he wouldn't be so cold. He'd left his hair down to cover his neck from the wind, although it did little to protect him. But the cold was exactly what he needed, after the previous night. No matter how long he scrutinised his memory of the events, he was still so confused.

After Wrathion had kicked him out of the bathroom, he'd been stunned. He'd had dinner and read through a few reports in a daze before it had gotten late enough to go to bed, and when Wrathion had eventually returned, things had been... strange. Nothing had noticeably changed between them, but there was a lingering tension. Maybe it was just Anduin who felt it. Perhaps he'd gotten a little carried away, but he really hadn't been trying to impress the male. They'd fallen asleep together as they so often did in Pandaria, and in the morning Anduin had woken before him, as always.

Of course, that wasn't his only problem. He'd woken up with a predicament of his own, and now he relied on the icy morning air to calm his mind and his body. He rarely had such graphic dreams, but something about Wrathion threw everything off track. Usually when he woke with such a problem, he was able to clear his head pretty quickly. But now he couldn't help but linger on the fuzzy memories of the dream. Damn Wrathion for being so attractive, and twice damn him for kicking Anduin out of his own bathroom!

Even the techniques taught to him by the priests did little to help, and no amount of meditation would remove those thoughts from his mind. By the time he managed to get some modicum of self control back, the morning fog was beginning to clear. Anduin usually woke before Wrathion, always waking at the crack of dawn while the dragon preferred to sleep in until nearly midday at the earliest. Which, in his current state, was for the best. The cold worked wonders to cool his heated face, and the serene view let him clear his head. Eventually.

Anduin wasn't sure how he wanted to deal with Wrathion. He truly felt adoration towards the male, a kind of fondness he'd never felt for anyone else. Putting aside the duty of a King, he wasn't sure how he felt as a person. Since Wrathion had returned to aid in the fight against N'Zoth, things had been purely business. There had been little time to talk about the past, or how they felt. Anduin had a kingdom to run and an Alliance to lead, and Wrathion had mostly been in Silithus, leaning his aid to Magni and the Champions. Even now that N'Zoth had been defeated, the time they spent together had been... shallow. Not that he didn't enjoy the male's company, but they tended to shy away from talking about their feelings. Himself, from his lack of experience. Wrathion likely felt similar, given that he was technically much younger than Anduin. 

The fight against N'Zoth had brought to light some... rather uncomfortable thoughts. Wrathion was satisfied that the cause of his father's corruption was destroyed, and the Horde had created a new council to lead instead of a Warchief. But Wrathion and the Champions had seen firsthand the potential future of a corrupted Stormwind and Orgrimmar, corrupted versions of their heroes. And away from the public eye, where only a few people even suspected, Anduin had discovered something very dark that lurked within his heart. 

It was easy to behave like nothing had happened, but he was damaged inside. Wrathion suspected that something was wrong from the moment he returned, going so far as to tell Anduin as much. At the time, it was easier to attribute that feeling of wrongness to the whispers of N'Zoth. But even with N'Zoth gone, that feeling remained, a cold black lump beside his heart. 

He was startled out of his thoughts when he was suddenly buffeted by the winds, turning around at the sound of claws scrabbling on stone. He might have been intimidated, if he wasn't watching a half asleep dragon clumsily land on a small hill. "You're getting too big for this hill." he said dryly, waiting for Wrathion to tuck his wings and right himself before approaching. He'd caught a wing to the face before and ended up with a bloody nose, so now he knew to watch for that. "You're up early."

"If I get too big, I'll curl around the entire hill." he said curtly, blinking at the King wearily. "The bed was cold without you."

Now that, Anduin knew, was a lie. Wrathion ran hot, much hotter than any human, and it often led to Anduin kicking off the blankets from overheating. Wrathion wasn't at all affected by the chill winds of Pandaria, Anduin doubted he'd notice the slight change in temperature on a cool Stormwind morning. But he reached a hand up to rub the scales of his jaw, gazing up at him fondly. It was times like this that made him remember just how much he cared for the dragon, regardless of how annoyingly smug he could be. 

The sheer dread he'd felt, standing back as the champions of the Alliance worked alongside Wrathion to combat N'zoth, that fear had never truly abated. He'd lost his mother, his father, most of his friends — he didn't think his heart could take losing Wrathion as well. But when the dragon returned, battered and bruised and weary, and had fallen into his arms without complaint, Anduin knew he was in love. 

"Your horns are getting bigger." he murmured, his fingers tracing the ridged curve of one of his horns. Once, they'd been the length of his finger. Now, they stretched almost the length of his forearm. The dragon chuffed in his throat, turning his head into the touch.

"That's not all—"

Anduin gave him a withering look.

"I was just going to say that I'm a lot bigger in more regards, not just my horns." he said indignantly. "Get your mind out of the gutter."

Anduin rolled his eyes, but he continued to scratch his scales. There was a spot on the edge of his jaw where if Anduin scratched just right — _there_. Wrathion twitched slightly, the muscles in one of his hind legs tensing ever so faintly.

"Ah— don't start this again." the dragon protested, but he didn't move away from the touch. He couldn't help it, his leg started kicking, claws tearing at the grass. How mortifying. "Anduin, please—" he complained.

The King chuckled and merely intensified his scratching, trying not to laugh too hard as the male's leg kicked out reflexively. "If you insist on making innuendo, I'm going to convince you that it's a bad idea." he said smugly. He had to admit, it was actually rather adorable watching such a big dragon wriggling around and kicking his leg like a dog. And since it embarrassed Wrathion, it was even more adorable. "It's not like you don't enjoy it." he teased.

"That's not the point..." the dragon huffed indignantly, suddenly jerking his head to knock the blonde to the ground. The moment his back hit the grass, Wrathion lowered one clawed foot to rest on his chest and keep him pinned, their faces inches apart. "Silly little King. Don't you know you shouldn't tease a hungry dragon? You might just... get eaten." he grinned, baring those fangs at him. It might have been menacing, if he hadn't just been looking so adorable.

Anduin gasped out a laugh, the pressure on his chest just enough to compress his lungs slightly. He wasn't in any danger — Wrathion was far too careful to ever hurt him seriously — but it was a little hard to catch his breath. He reached up, one hand on either side of his face. "There's worse ways to go." he said dryly. "But you and I both know I'm not spicy enough for your liking." he added.

Wrathion tilted his head slightly. "I don't mind sweet things occasionally." he hummed, bowing his head until the tip of his snout touched the blonde's forehead. A gentle headbutt, his scales smooth and warm to the touch. "You're stressed." he said suddenly, not unkindly. "Your face is all scrunched up."

"It's not scrunched up, this is just how I look when I have a dragon trying to crush me." he pulled a face, not helping his argument at all. He _was_ stressed, but he was loath to talk about it. Talking about it would make it real, he could just ignore it if he didn't say anything.

Wrathion looked down at him with concern in his eyes, but he eased the pressure on his chest somewhat. "What's wrong? Did I...?" he trailed off, sounding a little unsure. While Anduin always tried to help people in need, Wrathion was much less tactful. He tended to hide his feelings behind arrogance and charm, making witty and sarcastic remarks to distract from how he felt. But Anduin knew him well enough to know when he was truly concerned, and so he found himself talking before he could help himself.

"It's not you. You're wonderful. I never knew if you'd come back or not, but I'm so glad you did. You have no idea how worried I was after you disappeared." he blurted out. He had felt betrayed at the time, hurt and upset, but as he aged he swiftly began to realise he was upset because Wrathion hadn't trusted him, and he was worried for his safety. "You're... well, kind of an adult. But you always do risky things, I didn't know if you were even alive until you showed up at the Keep." he admitted. "I just... I don't want you to leave again. You're a brilliant strategist and you're a valuable ally to have, but I'm not speaking as King here. I want you to stay because I missed you." he finished, a hint of pink creeping onto his face.

The dragon eyed him silently for a long moment, long enough that Anduin wondered if he had said the wrong thing. Maybe it was a mistake to voice his concerns, maybe he— 

"I don't plan to leave."

Anduin blinked, looking up at him curiously.

"I was... young. Foolish. I had only just hatched, and I thought I knew everything. I believed Azeroth would never defeat the Burning Legion unless the Alliance and Horde ceased their fighting, but you proved me wrong." he admitted. "I wanted you to see what I was doing, that I wanted the Alliance to absorb the Horde and destroy the Legion, but I knew you disapproved." he shifted his foot away to rest his head on Anduin's chest, looking up at him. "I believed you hated me for it. I had to, or I wouldn't have been able to betray you like that." he said softly.

Anduin had closed his eyes while the male spoke, and when he finally opened them again, Wrathion was human, his expression apologetic and frustrated. "I didn't hate you." he said simply. "I didn't trust you, but I never hated you. Even after you betrayed me, I worried about you. You were a chubby little whelp who thought he was a big scary dragon." he chuckled, leaning his head back against the grass. Wrathion's weight against him was comforting, familiar. They had been close in Pandaria, snuggling up by candlelight to read together in the cold nights, although that had mostly been for Anduin's benefit.

Wrathion fell silent again, merely listening to the steady beat of the King's heart. But eventually he lifted his head and flashed him a wry smile. "You do realise that I'm only eight. And that means you punched an eight year old in the face." he teased. "The High King of the Alliance, punching children. My, my, how would the people of Stormwind feel about that?"

"If they met you, they'd think it was perfectly justified." he shot back. "We were having a nice moment there, did you have to ruin it?"

"I didn't _have_ to, but I take great pleasure in seeing you getting so flustered." he mused. "You're always so polite and diplomatic, it's entertaining to see you lose your patience with me. I know you're not acting." he added.

"I'm not acting polite, I _am_ polite. Unlike certain black dragons who only know how to speak sarcasm, I was raised to be respectful."

Wrathion rose a brow, looking rather smug. "See what I mean? You develop an attitude when I irritate you. The little Lion has some bite to him, after all." he purred.

"I'd like to remind you that only one of us has actually bitten the other, and it was you. Multiple times. With those tiny little needle teeth." he grumbled. "I still have the scars on my hand."

The dragon propped himself up on his elbow to look at him better. "I told you not to touch my food. Dragons are very territorial, we don't like sharing. You didn't listen."

"I didn't think you'd actually bite me!"

"I clearly said 'Anduin, don't touch my food or I'll bite you'. What part of that wasn't clear?"

Anduin frowned at him. "You didn't have to bite me that hard."

"And you didn't have to touch my food so I'd say we're at an impasse." he said pointedly, but then his expression softened. "I'm not going anywhere, Anduin. If I must go, I'll always come back. You have my word on that." he promised.

Something in Anduin's chest felt like it was doing somersaults, but it was an oddly happy feeling. "Good. Otherwise I'd have to hunt you down and drag you back myself." his lips curled into a small smile, his fingers tangling in the male's hair. "I suppose we should be getting back... If we wait any longer, we'll miss breakfast." he said slowly, but he made no effort to get up.

"You're the King, surely you can ask the cooks to make a late breakfast? I doubt they'd mind."

Anduin hesitated. "I try not to make things difficult on the Keep staff. I might be King, but I'm not an invalid. I can prepare a meal for myself, light my own fireplace; I don't want to put people out for my sake."

The dragon rolled his eyes, but it was nothing unexpected. Anduin was always too kind for his own good. "You're not the only one who can cook, you know." he drawled. "While I preferred simple meals when I was younger, my tastes have become more particular. Left and Right taught me a few things, back in Pandaria." he gave a shrug at Anduin's surprised expression. "Just like you said, I'm not an invalid either. There are times when I have been on my own. Did you think I simply ate the first animal to cross my path?"

"I... never really thought about it. But I suppose it's not that surprising." he admitted. "You used to threaten to eat me."

Wrathion gave a slow shrug, but he couldn't really deny it. He _still_ threatened to eat him. "You're different from an animal. You taste much better." he grinned widely, baring his teeth at the male. Even in his more human form, his teeth were still wickedly sharp, designed to shear flesh from bone. "I have a bit of a sweet tooth, to be honest." he teased. He moved suddenly, taking advantage of Anduin's surprise and using the chance to pretend to bite at his neck.

Anduin couldn't help the small groan that escaped him the moment he felt the male's heated breath on his throat, his face flushing as he was reminded of his earlier problem. He felt the dragon go still beside him, but neither of them dared move. Finally, Anduin gave a frustrated little groan and pushed him aside, sitting up. "You can't keep doing this to me." he grumbled, refusing to meet his gaze.

"Doing what?" Wrathion said slowly, sitting up beside him. "I didn't even bite you, I don't see what you're mad about—"

"That's the thing, I'm not mad." he huffed, finally turning his head to look at the male. His frustration was getting the better of him, especially since recent events had already worn his patience thin. "You keep... teasing me. And then when I show interest, you kick me out of my own bathroom!"

Wrathion blinked slowly, but then his brow furrowed. "I know what happened, I got carried away. And I told you before, I don't want you trying to impress me. If you think I want you throwing yourself at me just to satisfy me—"

"I'm trying to satisfy myself!" interrupted Anduin, his face a remarkable shade of crimson so bright it almost matched Wrathion's eyes.

"Oh."

"Yes, _oh_."

Wrathion cleared his throat, and this time it was his turn to avert his gaze. "I see. I didn't consider that possibility..." he trailed off. For once, he didn't offer a suitably snarky response. Unfortunately, that left Anduin to pick up the slack in the conversation.

"And why not?" he demanded. "Because I lack experience? Because Greymane keeps insisting I worry about an heir?"

"Because of who I am."

That caught Anduin off guard. "What do you mean?" he said cautiously.

Wrathion frowned, picking a dried leaf off the ground and twirling it between his claws. "The Alliance, Stormwind... They would never accept their King having an interest in a black dragon." he said slowly. "You have always put others before yourself. I suppose I assumed you would do the same with the kingdom. Besides... Your family hasn't had the best history with black dragons." he muttered, claws digging into the leaf. "Not to mention the corruption..." 

"You're not Onyxia, and you're not Deathwing. You've done so much for Azeroth... For me..." he said honestly. "You made it possible for the Champions to defeat N'Zoth. As for the corruption..." he hesitated, reaching a hand out to touch his arm gently. "You're not the only one who could've become corrupted." he murmured. At Wrathion's quizzical look, he gave a slight nod. "I was... hearing the whispers. Before you came to Stormwind. I'm a priest, I've been close to the Light since I was a boy. I was only taught to use the Light, but..."

Understanding dawned in those burning crimson eyes. "You've been using Shadow magic." he said bluntly. It wasn't an accusation, just a statement. "Since when? When the whispers began? Before then?"

"Before. I had already begun to... dabble... by the time I arrived in Pandaria. Nothing too difficult, just testing my control." he explained. "The Light is more suited for defence and healing, it's limited as a weapon. Onyxia, Garrosh, every time I got hurt I could've avoided it if I had some way to defend myself." he insisted. "I'd never be able to use it openly like I do the Light, but I can't always depend on others to protect me."

"You do realise that N'Zoth could've used that desire to corrupt you? That your use of Shadow might have been exactly what he wanted?" he demanded, concern etched into his features. "I saw what would become of Stormwind if N'Zoth triumphed. I saw what became of _you_ , and I will carry that nightmare with me until my bones turn to dust. If you had any idea what you were risking, you never would have considered it."

"I need to be able to defend myself!" he protested.

"Not at that cost! You have no idea how dangerous it is. Stormwind would crumble if their King was corrupted. If we hadn't defeated N'Zoth—" he broke off at the look on Anduin's face, his eyes widening. "The whispers have stopped, haven't they? Tell me you haven't been hearing them." he reached out, grabbing the blonde by the shoulders.

Anduin hesitated, but he shook his head. "It's gotten quiet, since you defeated N'Zoth." he murmured. "I can still sense... something... but it's not as strong as before."

The dragon suddenly pulled him into an embrace, burying his face in the blonde's shoulder. "Please, Anduin. Be careful. I need you." he said softly. It was a rare show of his true feelings, free from sass or snark, and Anduin was incapable of denying him. 

He returned the embrace until Wrathion finally pulled away, and while his expression was still concerned, he seemed somewhat relieved. "I'm not going anywhere. I have a duty to Stormwind, and to you." he promised. "And to tell the truth, Wrathion... I don't really care that you're a black dragon. You've proven time and again that you're not like Deathwing. As for an heir, I have always put Stormwind first. I think I'm allowed one act of selfishness." he said ruefully, his lips curling into a small smile. He moved his hand up to cup the male's cheek before he leaned in, pressing their lips together.

He was ready for the worst when he felt Wrathion stiffen, but he was pleasantly surprised when the male returned the kiss. His lips were warm and soft, and even when the male's beard scratched his skin, he didn't mind the sensation. Anduin only pulled away when he remembered that he actually needed to breathe, but he only pulled back enough to meet his gaze.

Those burning eyes contained a heat that he'd seen before, in the warmth of the bath. His eyes pinned the King in place, his instincts feeling like a mouse before a starving cat. And yet somehow, he wasn't afraid. "You'll tell me if I do something you don't like?" the dragon murmured. It was odd, hearing him speak without his usual confidence. Perhaps that was just one way Wrathion had matured since their parting in Pandaria.

"I might be soft, but I'm not weak." he chuckled softly, his thumb brushing the male's cheek. "If you did something I didn't like, I'd smite you into next week." he teased. "Although I thought you wanted to _'sweep me off my feet and ravish me’_?"

The humor returned to Wrathion's face, his lips curling into a wry little grin that revealed his sharp teeth. "My, my... Who would ever suspect the King of Stormwind would be an exhibitionist?" he practically purred, his hand sliding up to tangle in Anduin's hair. "Even as isolated as we are, we're a little too public. Ask me again when we're in your quarters, and I'll ravish you as much as you want." 

The realisation that yes, Mason's Folly was somewhat private, but still dangerously public had his face flushing again. He had only just gotten control over his blush, and now it was back with a vengeance. "You know what I mean, you useless reptile." he grumbled, pushing the male's face away when the dragon attempted to lean in for another kiss. "I wish we could stay like this forever. Although I'd prefer if you talked less." he joked.

Wrathion gave a small shrug, leaning into Anduin's hand. "We could." he said simply. "If you ever grow tired of being King or if you have nowhere else to go, whatever your reasoning, we can always stay like this. You said when we first met that you wanted to travel more. Perhaps one day we shall travel Azeroth together." when Anduin opened his mouth to protest, to insist he could never abandon his kingdom, Wrathion held up a hand. "I know you'd never run away. But perhaps you'll achieve the peace you've always fought for. The Alliance won't need you to lead them into battle if there are no battles to be fought." he pointed out. "The offer is there, regardless. All you have to do is ask, and I shall take you anywhere you wish to go without question."

Anduin's expression softened, his indignation fading. He didn't know what the future held. Perhaps the Alliance would crumble, and he would have nothing left to lead. Perhaps they would finally achieve peace. A weight was lifted from his shoulders just from that offer alone. If ever he wanted to run, Wrathion would be there for him. "I hope that means you'll stay, in the meantime?" he murmured. "You still owe me adventures that would make my father age ten years."

"My dear King, it was a mistake to leave you the first time. I can assure you it will not happen again." he said firmly. "Whatever happens, I shall remain by your side. I wouldn't be a very good advisor if I left, would I?" he chuckled.

The reminder of his responsibilities made Anduin frown. "We really should be getting back... There are scouts returning today, they've been chasing down priority targets over the last month. The discovery of Azerite brought some new groups into play, factions that have kept to themselves in the past." he explained. "Unfortunately, today isn't about listening to petty squabbles and disputes over land."

"Ever busy, of course. As to be expected of a King, and such a hard worker as well. Breakfast then, and afterwards I shall accompany you. I wish to hear these reports for myself." he decided. "I'm not carrying you to the portal this time, since you abandoned me this morning." he added haughtily.

Anduin merely smiled as he got to his feet, grabbing the dragon's hand and pulling him up. "Fine by me. You'll just have to walk with me." he teased.

* * *

Anduin shifted on the throne impatiently, wishing that it was more comfortable than hard stone. After sitting through several hours of reports wearing his armor, he found himself longing for a cushion or two. Wrathion stood by his side for a change, drawing the ire of Greymane from across the Petitioners Chamber. The old worgen had made it clear that he didn't trust Wrathion nor did he approve of Anduin's fondness for the dragon, which was precisely why Shaw was positioned closer than usual, against Anduin's wishes. The scout before him was a void elf half a head shorter than him, the lower half of his face concealed by his mask and his hands always by the curved blades on his hips. "What have you learned?" he asked simply. 

The scout gave a small bow before he straightened up, clearing his throat. "There have been rumors of activity near Blackrock Mountain. While sightings of a black dragon in the area are no longer a surprise," he nodded in the direction of the dragon in question, "there are some less pleasant rumors beginning to circulate. People disappearing from the nearby regions, particularly from Elwynn Forest." he explained. "It has been... difficult... to find anyone who will openly talk about these disappearances. People are afraid, Your Highness. Elwynn Forest has always enjoyed Alliance protection, but there are rumors that the Alliance, specifically the King, doesn't care about these disappearances. That perhaps he cares more for the new members of the Alliance, and who cares about a few human men disappearing? Perhaps some sort of action would be best...?"

Anduin saw Wrathion frown at the scout, but he held his hand up for silence. "I understand the concern. I have sent scouts such as yourself to investigate the issue, but until we discover who is behind these disappearances, secrecy is best. If they become aware that they are being hunted down, they could potentially go into hiding and we would never find out the truth." he said calmly. "For now, continue to investigate. Rest assured I will discuss with the Spymaster the best way to reveal the culprit, and bring them to justice." he promised, noting that Shaw nodded in agreement. 

The scout hesitated, but he gave a nod. "Understood... Also, I found no evidence to support this, but some people are claiming to have seen shadowy apparitions in the Forest." he said warily. "I tried to confirm it myself, but I saw nothing. That is all I have to report, my King." he finished.

"I see. Thank you, nonetheless. Speak to Spymaster Shaw for your next assignment, and make sure to get some rest." he gave the scout a polite smile before he rose to his feet. Human men going missing, with no one wanting to talk about it, and possibly shadowy apparitions as well... None of his spies and scouts knew anything more than that, but he was beginning to get an idea.

Wrathion caught up to him as he left the chamber, falling into stride beside him. The stone halls of the Keep were awash with golden light, the setting sun casting a soft glow over everything. "You're planning something." he said casually. "Something reckless and stupid."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." he drawled, shooting the male a withering look. Wrathion was always too quick to catch him out. "What gave it away?"

The dragon shrugged a shoulder, matching his pace to Anduin's as they passed through the corridors. "People are disappearing and the common folk are starting to suggest their King doesn't care. That alone is enough to upset you, but if they're disappearing in Elwynn Forest—"

"It's practically on my doorstep." Anduin finished. The soft light coming from the sword on his hip cast shadows as he walked, catching his notice occasionally. "Innocent people are disappearing and no one seems to know why. Two spies, four scouts — some of the best men and women in SI:7 — and none of them know what's going on. It's just outside Stormwind, there are Alliance patrols around the neighboring towns. Whoever it is causing these disappearances is no fool. It would be virtually impossible to drag someone away in the open, someone would see it. But the few people who _are_ talking haven't seen anything like that. Just that people suddenly aren't there any more, like they vanished into thin air."

Wrathion followed along as they entered the Keep library, his gaze roaming over the various books and scrolls stored on the shelves. "I can understand that. But why are we _here_? How are books going to find out what happened?" he asked curiously. He reached up, trailing a gloved fingertip across one of the shelves before scowling at the mark in the dust. "And barely read books at that." he muttered.

"Because..." Anduin paused in front of the shelf he was looking for, pulling several books and scrolls down and waving away the dust that followed. "These books contain information about the area. Every nook and cranny, from cellars to graveyards. People are disappearing, but they must be going _somewhere_." he insisted.

Wrathion glanced over his shoulder at the King, raising a brow. "What makes you think that?"

"Well, if it was about killing people, why would they go to such great lengths to destroy the bodies so thoroughly that even Stormwind's finest spies can't find a trace?" he mused, carrying his pile over to one of the tables and setting them down. "No, it's not about killing them. You heard the last scout, there's been activity around Blackrock Mountain that isn't you or your agents. That's not far away. If anything, it's too close to be a mere coincidence." he pointed out.

The dragon nodded slowly. "There are plenty of caves and tunnels in the area... But why are you so sure that's where the missing people are?" he flipped open one of the books, idly flicking through the pages until finally settling on one in particular; Blackwing Lair, the home of the deceased black dragon Nefarian. Wrathion's uncle, Anduin supposed. Kin nonetheless. No wonder Wrathion had made his home there. 

"Elwynn Forest is so vibrant and green because it's right next to the Burning Steppes, which is volcanic land. We know that the underground tunnels around volcanoes can stretch for a long distance, and we know they're long enough to reach under Elwynn Forest. It would be one way to explain where the missing people have gone." he suggested. "It would be deep below ground, but it wouldn't be impossible to find one of those tunnels if you knew where to look. What I want to know is if any of the buildings in Elwynn Forest match up with the tunnels we have mapped out. There's no guarantee that's where these missing people are, but it's a start and it's better than nothing."

"Not a bad idea..." he agreed, looking on rather appreciatively as the King began to open books and unfurl scrolls. "But that brings me to my next question. What are you going to do when you find out what happened?"

That made Anduin pause. What would he do? "It depends on the outcome, really. If it's just one individual or a small group, it would be better to send someone from SI:7." he admitted. "If it's something more serious, then I'll get one of the Champions involved. This isn't just a problem for the people in Elwynn Forest, it's a problem for Stormwind and the Alliance in general. There's a lot of farmland and cattle in the area, if the farmers decide Stormwind isn't supporting them, they're likely to cease trade. Without that source of food, Stormwind would have to reach further to provide for its people."

"So it's political as well as personal."

"Personal?"

Wrathion resumed flicking through one of the books, more interested in casually scanning the pages rather than actually reading them. "You don't want to be seen as weak." he said simply. "It's always been a pet peeve of yours, Anduin. You're strong, but because you want peace, people assume that you're soft. You would befriend your enemies instead of slaying them, and you're frighteningly good at it too. But it makes people think you're weak, and you hate that."

Anduin blinked. He was absolutely correct, but he hadn't expected Wrathion to read him as easily as he read the books on the table. "I suppose you're right." he said eventually, his gaze falling to one of the maps. "I haven't abandoned these people. Stormwind has always supported our allies. I haven't been able to act because I don't know what to do; I don't know who our enemy is and I don't know where to find them. It's not as easy as sending an army to comb through the forest." he sighed heavily. "One wrong move, and more people could go missing. Or the culprit slips away and evades justice."

"I know that. Just as I also know that once you learn the truth, you'll prove that you haven't abandoned them." the dragon reached out a hand, lightly touching Anduin's arm. "If they still don't understand, I'm happy to go and burn down a few houses, maybe eat a few cows until they apologise." he joked, attempting to lighten the mood.

Anduin gave him a grateful smile, the tension draining from his shoulders. "If I need someone to burn down a village, you'll be the first person I speak to." he promised. "But avoid the cows if you can, Stormwind needs the milk and meat." he chuckled.

"Of course, my King. Just one or two then, for a snack."

"I'll allow it."

The King began to study the maps and compare them to the various books before him, even as Wrathion flipped through the pages of the book before him. "I wonder... I have several Blacktalon agents permanently stationed around Blackrock Mountain, and none of them have reported any unusual activity." he said eventually. "Admittedly they're mostly there to keep an eye on Blackwing Lair so they don't go far, but if they saw anything unusual they'd report straight to me." he pointed out. "If your men were being held somewhere in the Burning Steppes, I'd know by now." 

Anduin glanced up, the look in his eyes suggesting he'd considered as much. "That assumes they're moving on the surface. There are mining crews in the area, it wouldn't be impossible to blend in with them. The miners would know about the old lava tunnels as well — it'd be the best cover they could want. Whatever purpose these people have been taken for, perhaps there's no reason to bring them above ground." he suggested. "Look, some of those tunnels are large enough to fit the Auction House." he tapped one illustration of the spiderweb-like tunnels. "It'd be easy enough to hide a dozen men in those tunnels, and no one would ever know."

Wrathion nodded, studying the sketches for a moment. "You could be right. My agents watch the miners, but if no one was acting suspicious they'd have no reason to report it to me." he said slowly. "Do any of the buildings in Elwynn Forest sit on top of any of these tunnels?" he reached out for one of the maps, moving it beside the map Anduin was studying. "There are a few stretching in that direction, but most of them are quite deep... or too small for people to pass through." he mused, gesturing to the dark lines of the border between the two areas.

The blonde rubbed his face, his brows furrowed as he gazed down at the papers. _If only a simple solution would present itself so he could do away with all this trouble!_

"Anduin."

The voice came not from the dragon, who looked somewhat displeased, but from the doorway to the library. The Spymaster stepped inside, his footsteps almost silent as he moved to the King's side. "You have an idea then?"

Wrathion suddenly closed the book he'd been eyeing, tucking it under one arm. "I shall be going then. I have a few things I wish to check. Rest assured, I will notify you if I find anything." he gave a bow that was somehow sarcastic, but as he strode past the King, he reached out to touch his arm for a brief second. A small show of support, one that had Anduin straightening up.

"I'll speak with you later, Wrathion. Be ready to burn down a village." he called over his shoulder, ignoring Shaw's bemused expression. 

The dragon grinned back at him before he swept out of the library.

Anduin turned back to the Spymaster, a new resilience in his eyes. "Let me show you what I've been thinking. I want to hear your thoughts."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters are getting longer now that there's actual plot happenings, so I might be a little slower in posting updates. But rest assured, there's a lot more coming!


	9. The Tavern in the Mists, Years Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The events of the past create the events of the present. Each action has a consequence, even if it is impossible to see at the time.

Anduin was curled up beneath the stairs, a heavy book in his lap and an open journal resting on the small pile of books beside him. He flipped through a few pages before pausing to write notes in his journal, the lamp beside him flickering faintly. The Tavern was fairly quiet with most guests enjoying the open air bath outside, the heated water perfect in the cold mountain air. There was a small alcove behind and under the stairs, a storeroom remodelled into a bedroom and study for the young Prince. He was fond of the Tavern, the atmosphere providing the perfect place for him to rest and heal from his injuries caused by the Divine Bell. That was the reason he gave as to why he chose to stay there, but it wasn't the whole truth. More than just enjoying the atmosphere of an isolated tavern while he healed, there was something Anduin was much more curious about. Someone.

"What are you reading?"

The voice startled him, making him wince as his aching limbs protested against the movement. "Wrathion!" he looked up at the male, his eyes lighting up. "I don't really think it'd interest you..." he admitted. "It's a book about the Light. Various methods of healing, powerful priests who found different ways to channel their power."

The whelp huffed but folded his wings and crept into the alcove. It wasn't a large space — it was just large enough to fit a bedroll and his meagre belongings, as well as his books — but Wrathion didn't take up much space. In his current form, he was the size of a fairly average dog, albeit a little chubby. "That doesn't sound too boring." he shrugged his shoulders as he moved to curl up on Anduin's lap, not caring one whit that he was making it awfully difficult to read and take notes at the same time. "Tell me more."

"Really?" Anduin blinked, one hand unconsciously moving to scratch at the dragon's scales. "Well... I've learned a few things. There's a limit to what you can heal, but it depends on your power as a priest as well as the strength of your faith and skill with the Light. Novice priests are able to heal basic wounds, but you'd need a more talented priest to heal something more serious." he explained. "That's why I've been limited in healing myself. The bruises and shallow cuts I can mend myself, over time. But the deeper wounds and broken bones are beyond me."

"So, which are you?"

He blinked, seeming caught off guard. "I'm certainly no master, but my tutors have said I'm surprisingly capable for my age. It's rare for anyone to have such skill with the Light at my age." he admitted. "But I'm nowhere near as good as my tutors. They've dedicated their lives to studying the Light; even if I'm naturally gifted, I just can't compare to that kind of experience." he mused.

Wrathion gave a snort, a thin plume of smoke rising from his snout. "You're so humble." he said dryly, the tip of his tail twitching.

"We can't all be as arrogant as you." Anduin shot back. When he had first encountered the self proclaimed Black Prince, he had been surprised at how the dragon immediately began pushing his buttons — and even more surprised at how quickly he retorted. He could never act out with such bratty petulance in Stormwind, he had the mantle of a Prince to wear, and that left no room for such childishness. But here, in the Veiled Stair, far from home, the only one to see his behavior was Wrathion. And since Wrathion delighted in getting a response from him, it swiftly became an endless cycle of sarcasm and scathing retorts.

"A good thing, really. The world would be so much less interesting if everyone were even half as amazing as I." the dragon tilted his head to look up at him, red eyes gleaming as he dug the tips of his claws into Anduin's leg. He was careful to avoid the bandages, careful to avoid actually hurting him, but he enjoyed riling him up.

"Careful, if your ego gets any bigger, you'll be too big to fly." he teased. "But then maybe you'd like that. You can stay here and get fat from the dumplings too."

Wrathion growled in response, but he lowered his head to rest on Anduin's thigh. Probably for the best, all things considered. Wrathion wasn't exactly known for his maturity, but then, Anduin wasn't being too mature either.

He was the reason Anduin had decided to stay at the Tavern in the Mists. A young black dragon, the son of Deathwing the Destroyer, but free from his father's corruption. One of the few black dragons left, thanks to his own efforts in exterminating his corrupted kin. Anduin believed they were fairly similar in terms of maturity, but Wrathion had only hatched two years prior. His other form made that hard to believe, and had sparked a bit of envy in Anduin. Anduin, already into his teens, and not even a hint of a beard.

"You might as well practice." the dragon spoke up suddenly, practically rolling off his lap and onto the bedroll beside him. In a burst of smoke, the black dragon was gone, replaced by a young man in exotic clothing, those burning crimson eyes fixed on him — and that damn beard a poignant reminder that Anduin was being outmatched by a two year old. Wrathion held out his hand, revealing a mild cut on the back of his hand. "Heal me?"

Anduin rolled his eyes, slipping his bookmark into place before closing the book and setting it aside. "Really, you need me to heal such a tiny cut?" he teased, taking the male's hand in both of his own. "What happened?" he asked curiously.

Wrathion shrugged, his gaze on their hands. "Would you believe me if I said I was fighting some horrible monster?" he drawled.

Anduin shook his head.

"Oh. Well... I was fighting the Alliance champion, actually." he admitted. At Anduin's concerned look, he waved his free hand. "Don't worry, it's not like that. The White Tiger wanted to test the champion and I. He wanted me to fight the champion while I was blindfolded." he pulled a face. "I have a few more cuts than this. The champion walked away remarkably intact."

Anduin couldn't help but smile, although he managed to keep himself from laughing outright. Of course the White Tiger would give Wrathion a difficult task — Xuen was trying to prove a point and teach the arrogant dragon a lesson, and judging from the sour expression he wore, Wrathion had been proven wrong. "I see. It's a good thing the champion is so strong then." he chuckled. He closed his eyes and called upon the Light, feeling its radiance blossoming in his chest before he guided it into his hands. A gentle glow began to emanate from his palms, bathing Wrathion's hand in a soft golden light.

Those crimson eyes watched closely as the cut began to fade away to nothing, the Light soothing all the aches he felt in his body, not just his hand. "You're getting better at this." he murmured.

Anduin opened his eyes, slowly letting the golden glow fade away to nothing. "I've been trying some different techniques." he admitted. "Before, I was concentrating too much on the surface. Instead I'm... well, I'm not sure it'll make sense since you're not a priest." he hesitated. "I'm just thinking about things differently, I suppose." he seemed to realise he was still holding Wrathion's hand so he promptly let go, but with nothing to do with his hands anymore he fumbled awkwardly for a moment before he clasped his hands together and set them firmly in his lap.

"Nevertheless... Thank you."

The blonde inclined his head slightly in return, but suddenly he was painfully aware of just how little space there was in the alcove. It was meant for storage, it barely fit Anduin and his belongings and with the addition of Wrathion, there was no room for Anduin to put some space between them. "I wish I could do more about my own injuries though." he said wistfully, holding up a bandaged arm in an attempt to change the subject. "I ache when I move, I ache when I sit still. It's awfully unpleasant."

Wrathion nodded slowly. "I can imagine, although I've never had a bell dropped on me." he agreed, his gaze surprisingly sympathetic.

"I certainly wouldn't recommend it. I'd much rather be out seeing Pandaria for myself rather than sitting around reading." he sighed. "I already do this at Stormwind. It's as though fate just doesn't want to give me a break. But listen to me complaining like an old man." the Prince laughed, trying to lighten the mood. "Even though I'm injured, it's not that bad. I'm glad I came to Pandaria." his lips curled into a smile, his expression brightening when Wrathion finally gave a chuckle.

"I can't say as I blame you for complaining. I wouldn't have the patience to sit around reading all the time, waiting to heal." he mused.

"It comes with age, I'm sure you'll grow up eventually."

"Fine words, coming from a _child_. We're practically the same age."

"Oh, sure. Fourteen, two, there's no difference at all between them at all."

Wrathion rolled his eyes, jabbing Anduin in the ribs. "You know what I mean. Dragons mature faster than humans."

" _Suuuuure_." he said mockingly. "So mature. That's why you keep punching me."

"Poking, and I only did it once."

"I'm injured, it may as well be punching. Knowing you, you'll do it again."

The dragon reached out to jab him once again, his lips curling into a wicked little grin. "I only did it because you told me to, _Your Highness_." he teased, looking insufferably smug. The only time he ever referred to Anduin by such titles was when he was being sarcastic. They were both princes by title, although Wrathion's was more self-appointed, but neither particularly cared for following the proper protocol.

"Poke me again, and I'll make sure there's a cell with your name on it when you visit me in Stormwind." Anduin said sweetly. He wasn't sure he could handle any more bruises.

Wrathion's expression turned sober, his brows furrowing. "That's assuming I'll be allowed in the city. After what happened with Aunty Onyxia, I doubt anyone would be too keen on having a black dragon as a guest." he said ruefully.

"I don't care. Onyxia was corrupted, and it was a long time ago. It isn't—"

"No, you're right. That _was_ a long time ago. I'm sure they'll remember instead how, more recently, Deathwing nearly destroyed half the city." he drawled. "Obviously they'll welcome me with open arms, without holding any kind of grudge."

Anduin frowned at him. "You're just being difficult now. I know you're a pessimist—"

"For good reason."

"But you've proven yourself. You've never once harmed me, even though you've had plenty of chances." he pointed out. "If you were a threat, you would've acted on it by now. The Prince of Stormwind, injured and alone in an isolated tavern on a distant continent? What better opportunity to strike a blow against the Alliance? But you haven't hurt me, and I know you wouldn't."

Wrathion gazed at him unhappily for a long moment, his lips pressed into a thin line. Finally, he gave a small sigh and held his hands up in surrender. "Fine, you win. I will visit you in Stormwind, and while I don't much care to seek the approval of others, I will attempt to be on my best behavior." he promised.

"That's all I ask. Besides, I'd consider myself a good judge of character. If I vouch for you, there are few people who would challenge me." he admitted. "My father would be first in line to give me a lecture of course, but he'd come around in time."

"You truly are a priest at heart, aren't you?" the dragon moved to sit beside him, leaving them shoulder to shoulder. While Anduin was still self conscious about the lack of space between them, he couldn't deny that the male's inhuman warmth eased the ache in his body where they touched — perhaps not entirely from his warmth, if he was being completely honest. "Always aspiring for peace, even when it'd be easier to fight. It's something you should be proud of. You're correct in calling me a pessimist... but your optimism is refreshing, in a way. It makes it very hard to dislike you." he murmured.

The blonde couldn't help but smile, although the tips of his ears were flushed a slight pink. "Is that your confession, then? That you don't _dislike me_?" he teased. "I'm awfully flattered, Wrathion. This must be a first for you."

"Perhaps." was all he said.

* * *

The Prince let out a frustrated little groan, fingertips fumbling at the bandage wrapped around his shoulder. The ache in his body prevented him from stretching far enough to undo it easily, which reduced him to clumsily tugging at the part he could reach in the hopes of undoing it. He'd stopped bleeding through the bandages after a week, and given that it was now halfway through a second week and the bandages were spotless — at least on the outside — he desperately wanted them off. Unfortunately, he couldn't quite manage half of them.

He gave a sigh, settling for removing the bandages he could reach. The ones on his arms and hands were already gone and most of the bruising had faded into mottled patches of sickly green and yellow, but his legs had taken longer to heal. Even with healers checking on him regularly, the remaining wounds were proving to be quite stubborn. His right leg was the worst of all; his left leg could support his weight, but his right knee buckled any time he tried to walk more than a few steps without his crutch. The healers had warned him he might never walk again without assistance, but since the pain had gradually lessened, he held out hope.

Scattered across his body were deep cuts from where jagged parts of the Bell had sliced into him. The healers had done their best to seal the cuts as best they could, but most of their energy had been spent on mending his broken bones. As soon as he was capable of moving around without help, he'd insisted he was able to change his own bandages. In hindsight, perhaps he had been a bit premature. Twice now, he'd had to ask the innkeeper for help.

He was dragged out of his thoughts by the sound of footsteps behind him, and he gave a relieved sigh. "Perfect timing. Can you please help me? I can't undo the bandages again."

"Of course."

Anduin almost jumped out of his skin at the response. It wasn't the warm voice of the Pandaren innkeeper, but the perpetually smug voice of a certain black dragon. "Wrathion!" he spun around, blue eyes wide.

"Expecting someone else?" he asked curiously, moving to the washbasin to wash his hands as he spoke. "Any other roguishly handsome dragons in the area I should know about?" he joked. He wiped his hands dry before he turned to face the blonde, although his gaze lingered on his injuries more than anything else. In only his trousers, Anduin was painfully aware that he looked like a mess. Bruises and scrapes and scabbed over cuts, with the old bandages on his shoulder concealing greater wounds.

"I was expecting Tong." he admitted, trying to take the focus off his injuries. "He helped me out last time. I'm too stiff to reach the bandages to untie them." he explained, gesturing to the ones still wrapped around his shoulder. "It's tied at the back, around my shoulder blade. I did the rest, but if you could just untie it—"

Wrathion merely reached out, carefully hooking his claws under the bandages without touching the skin beneath. Those sharp talons cut through the cloth easily. Anduin gave a small sound of relief as the pressure eased, only to hiss as the cool air stung the wound. "Are you alright?" murmured the dragon, carefully peeling away the bandage. "You're looking much better than when you first got here." he added. Before Anduin could respond, he grabbed one of the soaked cloths and pressed his free hand to the middle of Anduin's back. "Don't move." he warned.

Anduin nodded slightly, biting his lip as he braced himself. It wasn't as bad as the burn of antiseptic on a wound, but it was better than an infection and his healing could only do so much. He stiffened as the dragon pressed the cloth to the wound, carefully and gently wiping down the area. The healing had kept the cuts from bleeding too badly but blood continued to bead and scab whenever he moved too much, and it ached from as little as breathing. He waited patiently until the male finished, but he gestured for him to pause.

"What is it?" Wrathion's voice was quizzical, even as he tossed aside the dirty cloth and reached for the roll of bandages.

"Let me heal it some more first." he reached his hand up to his opposite shoulder, his eyes slipping closed as he called upon the Light. A faint golden radiance began to bloom from his hand, soothing the ache. Wrathion gave a sound of approval as the bruising around the injury began to lighten, the wound itself seemingly shrinking somewhat. All too soon, the gentle glow began to dim before it faded away entirely. "That's the best I can do for now." he murmured, his voice a little shaky as he gestured for the male to continue. "When I said I needed more practice healing, I didn't mean I wanted to be crushed by a bell." he grumbled.

Wrathion gave a soft laugh, carefully drying the wound before he began to wind the bandage around his shoulder. "Beggars can't be choosers, my dear Prince." he teased. "You have impressive skill for someone so young. If you continue to practice, you'll be a remarkable priest once you're older."

Anduin grimaced at the comment. "My father would prefer I become a warrior like him, even though he says he'll support me training as a priest." he said dryly. "I don't have any talent with a blade and I don't like fighting. I'm not suited for combat like that. I'd just get myself killed. Look at what happened already."

"In all fairness, Garrosh is much, much bigger than you. But you're particularly right. Frontline combat _isn't_ for you. But you're smart. Dangerously clever, even." he mused, tying the bandage securely — this time within reach for Anduin. "You don't have to be your father. You choose your own path, after all. But from what I know of the man I suspect he'd be quite proud of you, regardless of what path you take." there was something in his voice that suggested he wasn't just talking about Anduin's father, but he didn't seem inclined to elaborate. "You'll get better with a blade in time, and it's a good idea to train to defend yourself. But your talents are clearly with the Light. It would be a mistake not to pursue it." he finished.

Anduin turned around on the stool, looking up at the dragon with a small smile. "Thank you, Wrathion." he inclined his head, reaching for his shirt. After a moment of silence as he pulled it on, careful not to strain himself, he finally spoke up again. "You're right. I just... worry. A lot. My father is an impressive man, and I worry I won't be able to live up to his legacy. Eventually I will be King... but I don't know if I can lead the way he does."

"Does that matter? You'll do the right thing. You and I both know you would make a terrible tyrant." he chuckled. "Even if you lead differently, that doesn't mean it will be a bad thing. Besides, your father is strong. I doubt you'll be taking the throne any time soon." he shrugged, moving to wash his hands again. "Worry about it when it happens. There's no use worrying about it now, when you can't do anything about it."

"I know. It's just hard not to worry about it." he sighed again, but he forced his thoughts away from such unhappy territory. Wrathion was right — there was no point in worrying now. "Thanks again. You have no idea how long I was struggling with those bandages." he laughed softly as he carefully rolled his shoulders, making sure the bandages wouldn't cut off the circulation.

"You should've asked for help." the dragon admonished, and Anduin couldn't help the smile that rose unbidden to his lips. Wrathion never liked asking anyone for help; he'd practically told the Champions _they_ would be helping _him_ , after all.

The Prince was silent for a while, but then he tilted his head. "Promise me something." he said suddenly, blue eyes sharp. Wrathion merely gave a small nod for him to continue. "Promise me if you ever need help, you'll ask for it. You know you can always come to me." he insisted.

Wrathion hesitated, his expression unreadable as he crossed his arms over his chest. But faced with Anduin's unrelenting gaze, he dipped his head. "Alright." he murmured. "I think... I would like to remain like this, in the future. No matter what happens."

Anduin rose to his feet and despite the ache in his limbs, he moved to grasp the male by the shoulders. "We will always be friends, Wrathion. Whether I'm King or not, no matter what happens. You have my word on that." he promised, meeting his gaze steadily. "You will always be welcome in Stormwind. My father might not approve, but he won't refuse me."

"I appreciate it. Truly. I shall always be your friend, Anduin… Your father knows I'm a dragon, I take it?" he said slowly, his gaze flickering to where Anduin's hands rested on his shoulders. "A black dragon at that?"

Anduin grimaced. "He does, and it was a very uncomfortable conversation. After what happened with Onyxia, he doesn't like black dragons very much. But he said if I trust you, you can't be that bad. He also told me to pass along several colorful threats in case you ever hurt me, but he'd have to wait his turn to kick your ass." he teased. "I'd smite you into next week before my father even got close."

"I'd like to think you would protect me from your father's wrath, since I was kind enough to protect you from _mine_." he growled playfully, baring his teeth.

"The Champions were the ones who did all the work. You're just a bossy little lizard with wings." he laughed, and suddenly he was holding a very displeased looking whelp. "Heavy—" he almost dropped the dragon in his surprise, but he managed to get a better hold on him before then. "You need to lay off the dumplings, otherwise you won't be able to fly." he snickered.

He'd never seen a dragon look so unimpressed, and he promptly got a cloud of hot smoke breathed into his face for his trouble. "Then you'll just have to carry me everywhere _and_ feed me dumplings." he said smugly. "Now I don't know about you, but talking about dumplings has made me quite hungry."

Anduin grabbed his crutch from where it leaned against the stool, almost juggling the whelp in his arms before fitting the end of the crutch under his arm. "You forgot the magic word."

"Feed me, or I'll eat _you_."

"I've always wondered what roasted dragon tastes like. Maybe you'd be better in a stew, since you're so tough?"

"Fine. Feed me, or I'll eat you _please_."

"That's a start."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I died, it was my birthday, and I've been a very busy bee. Luckily, I have several more chapters written now.


	10. Stormwind Keep, Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shadows are moving in Stormwind, and things begin to lead in a new direction.

Stormwind Keep was designed with only two main entrances, the grand entrance hall at the front of the Keep, and the open halls around the garden that were almost impossible to reach without flight. There was an additional route for servants to take that kept them out of the main halls, but it was just as guarded as the main entrances. It would be incredibly difficult to enter the Keep in secret without knowing the patrol routes and rotation of the guards stationed in the halls, let alone the patrols of the gryphon riders and guards stationed around the Keep.

The brunette crept through the halls, his footsteps soft on the stone floors. He knew the layout of the Keep perfectly, knew when the guards changed rotation — it wasn't the first time he'd snuck through the Keep so late at night. He would no doubt be discovered at some point — SI:7 were incredibly talented, and the Spymaster would likely be the first to realise what had happened.

He swiftly ducked into an alcove at the sound of armor clanking down the hall, holding his breath as he waited for the guard to walk past. There was no way to avoid being found out, but he wanted to avoid causing panic as much as possible. He let a minute pass before he carefully slipped out of his hiding place and darted down the hall. He only had a brief window of opportunity; too soon and he'd be discovered by the guards, too late and he'd be discovered by SI:7. The worst case scenario would be getting caught by a very irritable black dragon. He didn't want to think about what would happen in that situation.

Finally, he reached the storeroom he had in mind. The window faced south-west, gazing down over the top of the wall protecting Stormwind. It was high up, in a little-used part of the Keep. A lone guard occasionally passed through the corridor, but there was little point to guarding an empty room in a tower that was impossible to access from outside without being spotted by the gryphon riders.

He made one final check of his equipment — plain leather armor, several throwing knives tucked away in various places, and a bow across his back with plenty of arrows. He hoped it wouldn't be necessary, but it was better to be prepared for anything. Nondescript, unimpressive weapons and armor to avoid giving his identity away. He leaned against the windowsill, gazing out at the circling gryphons above. _There._ Two riders banked left and flew out of sight, leaving him with a clear shot.

Stormwind Keep was designed to keep enemies out — little care had been put into keeping people _in._

Anduin pulled himself up and over the sill, wrapping his cloak around himself tightly before he stepped into the empty air. He fell, quickly enough to make his heart skip a beat, but then he called upon the Light. His fall immediately slowed to a gentle glide as he began to levitate, his momentum allowing him to drift towards the wall. The moment he was above the stones, he let the Light fade and dropped to his feet. While he wasn't particularly afraid of heights, it was an unsettling feeling to be so high up with nothing to stop him from tumbling over the edge and falling to the ground. It was a sobering thought, promptly broken by the sound of wings beating against the air.

He looked up to watch as the rider guided the gryphon to land on the wall, the beast shaking itself impatiently as the rider dismounted. The void elf was the same man who had given a report earlier in the Keep, his services currently requested by the King. He patted the gryphon's feathery shoulder before he turned his gaze to the King, studying him from head to toe but making no comment on his appearance. "I know it's not my place to say anything..." he said slowly. "I know I offered to help, but do you really think it's wise for the King to go off on his own?" even when Anduin had summoned him to the library after Shaw had left, he had been keen to obey, yet still a little unsure.

Anduin shook his head, reaching a hand out to the gryphon. It inspected him for a moment before nudging his hand, allowing the King to pet it. "It's just a quick flight over Elwynn Forest, like we discussed. I'm quite capable of defending myself, if need be." he pointed out.

"If you use the Light, everyone will know who you are." he protested. "If people knew their King was sneaking around the kingdom—"

"Using the Light isn't the only way to defend myself." he interrupted, moving past the void elf and pulling himself up into the saddle atop the gryphon. It had been a while since he'd ridden anything other than Wrathion, but he was confident in his ability. "I asked for your assistance, not a lecture." he warned.

The void elf nodded and stepped aside with a slight bow. "Understood, my King. Return swiftly and safely." he said simply.

Anduin eyed him for a moment before he guided the gryphon to the edge of the wall, taking a second to look out over his city. His people would never view him the way they viewed Varian, and he accepted that. He was no warrior, and he desired peace more than bloodshed. But he would not allow his people to think him weak. He spurred the gryphon on, pulling his hood up to cover his head before they leapt into the air, the beast's great wings beating in time with his racing heartbeat.

* * *

The Spymaster had promised to send more scouts into Elwynn Forest to investigate Anduin's theory about the lava tunnels, but it wasn't enough. It would take time to organise scouts for such a mission and they still had no evidence of the shadowy apparitions that had been spotted in the forest. Once Shaw had left, Anduin buried his head in his hands. What was he to do? Marching an army was out of the question. The Champions were still recovering from their ordeal in Ny'alotha, many of whom had scattered to the far edges of Azeroth for Light knows what they did in their free time. Probably terrorising weak monsters for cheap treasures, no doubt.

Perhaps one of the scouts from the afternoon reports could offer advice, given that they'd experienced first hand the displeasure of the citizens. He rose from his seat and moved to the library entrance, leaning out to make eye contact with one of the guards. Well, the best eye contact one could make when the other's eyes were hidden by a helmet. "Send a messenger to Spymaster Shaw. I wish to speak with the void elf scout from this afternoon." he instructed. The guard nodded, murmured something to his companion, and hurried off down the hall, his armor clanking all the way.

Anduin made a mental note to retire to his quarters at some point after he spoke to the scout, mostly to remove his own armor. It certainly made an impression during political discussions and it had saved him from several injuries, but it was far from comfortable to lounge around in.

It wasn't long before the scout arrived, slipping into the library with catlike tread. "King Wrynn, you called for me?" it was more a statement than a question, the elf's voice as smooth as velvet and carrying a touch of the elven smugness he was so accustomed to. "How can I assist?"

The King straightened up, his boyish face more weary than his anyone his age had any right to be. "You've been investigating Elwynn Forest for how long now? A month?"

"Just over three weeks." the elf corrected. Those gleaming blue eyes were somewhat unsettling, but they reminded him of Kalecgos, and the thought calmed him. Those eyes then darted to the table, flickering over the maps before returning to the blonde. "I can show you the routes I took, if you would like." he offered.

Anduin shook his head. "We need to take action now. Sending a large party is too risky, so it will have to be just one or two, no more." he explained, gesturing to one of the maps in particular. "There are underground tunnels in the Burning Steppes; it's entirely possible they stretch under Elwynn Forest all the way to Westfall. Our maps of the tunnels are outdated and incomplete, but several tunnels travel directly beneath buildings."

"And you want me to investigate them." the elf finished. "Of course. And I assume you want me to keep a low profile." he added. "Although perhaps you should inform the people in the area that their King actually does care about them." he said dryly, his expression somewhat accusatory. "I have friends there. Friends that have gone missing." he added.

Understanding hit Anduin at the same time as he made his decision, his gaze returning to one of the maps before him. "Meet me on the south western wall near the Keep, this evening. Bring a gryphon." he said simply.

* * *

It wasn't the first time he'd rushed foolishly into danger. Years ago, he had gone after Garrosh Hellscream by himself to stop him from using the Divine Bell to empower his army. He'd been grievously injured for his troubles, left so close to death, but he had succeeded in stopping the orc. Yet again he had taken matters into his own hands, but this time he was no longer a helpless young man. He was a powerful priest, and while he had left the easily recognisable Shalamayne in the Keep, he was far more skilled with a bow and throwing knives. Besides, it was just a quick scouting of the forest. Nothing too terrible was likely to be lurking so near Stormwind.

He guided the gryphon down, gliding just above the treetops. He knew Elwynn Forest almost as well as he knew the districts of Stormwind, and it didn't take him long to find the first of several points he wished to investigate. The gryphon folded its wings and dove down through a gap between the foliage, feathers barely brushing against the leaves before it snapped its wings open to coast along before finally landing. Anduin pulled his hood low over his face as he leapt down from the gryphon's back, although he turned to scratch his fingers through its thick feathery mane. "Wait here for me, I'll be right back." he promised, his voice a soft murmur. "And when we get back to Stormwind, I'll make sure you get a treat." the gryphon squawked its delight, playfully headbutting the King's shoulder.

Anduin turned away, eyeing the large barn before him. It was no longer used, given the overgrowth of weeds around the building, but something caught his eye. A heavy lock lay in the grass by the door, rusted from age and exposure to the elements, but it had clearly been intentionally broken. He knelt down to pick it up, turning it over in his hand. The iron was cleaved in two, likely by some sort of magic. Perhaps a mage had frozen it first? Not for the first time, he wished he had any aptitude at all for sensing traces of magic.

Whoever had destroyed the lock had wanted to get inside the old barn, for whatever reason. He straightened up, leaving the broken lock on the ground, and pressed his shoulder against the heavy sliding door. The rails squealed in protest as he began to slide it open, the rust making it almost impossible to get it open more than a few inches — just wide enough for the slender male to fit through the gap. In the light of the moon it had been bright enough to see the rusted lock, but the inside of the barn was almost pitch black. The only light came from a broken window in the loft, letting in a singular shaft of silver moonlight.

He rose a hand, calling upon the power that dwelled within him to settle his nerves and provide a soft light. The barn held the remains of long-disused farming equipment, and the faint smell of manure hung in the air. Whatever animals had been there were long gone. But there — something gleamed beneath the moldy hay, catching his eye. What was that? He crouched down to investigate, sweeping aside the hay with a gloved hand. The hay had been largely scattered around, but it seemed particularly piled up in that one particular spot — as though to hide something. It wasn't entirely uncommon for barns to have cellars, but the plans he had been studying showed nothing of the sort. Only the tavern had a cellar, and the barn was certainly no tavern.

But contrary to the building plans, there was a trapdoor that shouldn't have existed, and it was carefully covered with hay as though it had been recently used. He reached out, grasping the iron handle and lifting it up slowly. The sound of the hinges squealing almost covered the sound of a gryphon's cry, but he let the trapdoor fall and swiftly rose to his feet, letting the Light fade from his hands. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Old wounds, now long healed, felt as though they were fresh again. He pushed through the gap in the barn door, coming face to face with the Void Elf.

"What are—"

The elf smiled, holding a finger to his lips. "Hush." he murmured. "I would have you know my name. I am known as Falanis." his smile widened, and then his form dissolved. In his place stood a n'raqi, standing tall above him. "Anduin Wrynn… Lion King..." it hissed in a garbled voice, raising a monstrous hand. _"_ _Oou thyzz lal ak'uq qwaz Zuq shkul ma sk'tek..."_

The priest raised his own hands defensively, but his body rebelled at the whispers filling his mind. N'Zoth may have been defeated, but that didn't mean all of his loyal followers had been defeated as well. _How foolish of him to leave the city alone!_ Just as the Light surged into his hands, the enormous hand swung at him, and he knew only darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are going places now, but there's still more to come!


	11. Stormwind Keep, in the past

Anduin wasn't one for sulking, preferring action over stewing in his emotions. But upon his return to Stormwind after the disastrous outcome of Garrosh's trial, he had almost immediately sealed himself in his room and refused entry to all but the servants who brought him meals. He didn't want to speak to anyone, not even his father. The one person he wanted to talk to had betrayed him.

Wrathion.

Anduin had once considered him the closest thing he had ever had to a friend — one his own age, at least. They disagreed on everything, and yet somehow found themselves enjoying the company of the other. How many times had they stayed up all through the night, playing jihui until Anduin was almost asleep on the board? How many times had Wrathion sat beside him while he read to him?

_“When I am a little older,” Wrathion announced, “I shall, if asked politely, take you on my back and ferry you to fascinating places, where we will have adventures that will age your father ten years in one night.”_

His chest ached. His body was still sore from the injuries caused by the Divine Bell, not to mention the emotional drain the trial had caused him. He had witnessed an alternate version of himself, the boy-king Anduin Wrynn, die in his arms after taking a fatal blow for him. Jaina had nearly been _killed_. Garrosh had escaped. Worst of all, Wrathion had betrayed him.

_"I shall always be your friend, Anduin."`_

Had it all been a lie? Had they ever truly been friends, or had Wrathion merely used him to achieve his goals as he had used the Champions?

_"We are friends, you and I."_

No. It was too easy to allow himself to doubt. Wrathion was mercurial to say the least, and he chose his allies based on what suited his plans rather than who he personally liked. Anduin had to believe that, or else he would have fallen into despair completely. It stung to know the dragon didn't view him as a suitable ally, but he understood his motivations at least. It didn't stop his chest from feeling so painfully tight, nor did it make his sour mood any better.

His father had been understandably enraged by what had happened with Garrosh, but he had temporarily put aside his fury to speak to Anduin before they returned to Stormwind. Varian had never approved of his friendship with Wrathion but he had never tried to stop it — he trusted his son to decide for himself who his friends were, although he had no reservations in offering his opinion. There, on the icy stairs of the Temple of the White Tiger in the freezing wind that threatened to steal the words from his lips, Anduin had explained Wrathion's betrayal.

Varian, unsurprisingly, wanted to send men after him. When Anduin had refused, he had promised to leave any manhunt to Anduin's discretion. The Champions had been sent to Draenor along with other powerful figures, and a large part of the Alliance had been dedicated towards exploring this strange world. They needed the manpower for more important things than hunting down an obnoxious whelp. If Wrathion wanted to see him, he knew where to find the young Prince.

A knock on the door startled him out of his thoughts. "I don't want to speak to anyone." he said angrily, irritated that someone would ignore his orders. He was only a Prince, but given that he was next in line for the throne, his commands carried a weight not easily ignored. "What part of that—"

"Prince Anduin? It's Shaw." the voice was smooth, not quite as deep as his father's, but he immediately recognised the owner. Mathias Shaw, Spymaster of SI:7 and one of the best rogues the Alliance had. Whatever he had come for had to be important.

Anduin grumbled as he kicked back the blanket, not bothering to change out of his bedclothes before he limped to the door and flung it open. "Yes?" he winced internally at how aggressive he sounded, entirely unintentional. Shaw had done nothing to deserve his ire. "What is it?" he asked, this time in a more calm voice.

"Your father has expressed a desire for SI:7 to keep an eye out for any black dragon sightings." he explained. "We have been ordered not to act, but merely to observe and report back to you... should you wish to hear it." he added, no doubt in reference to Anduin's initial reaction to his visit.

The young Prince sighed and gestured for the male to enter as he turned on his heel, making his way to his desk and taking a seat. Shaw followed him inside, but remained standing instead of taking the seat offered. "Tell me what you know." he said simply. He didn't dare get his hopes up, but nor did he stomp down any glimmer of good news. If Wrathion had been sighted, that meant he was alive and well at the very least, and that meant Anduin had a chance to... to what, exactly? What would he do if he found the dragon?

"There have been several sightings of a black dragon whelp. He has been quite active, but he always seems to be one step ahead of our men." the Spymaster explained. Anduin had to admit, a small part of him wished he could grow a moustache half as impressive as the one Shaw wore. "Every time we've heard about this dragon, he's long gone. We originally caught his trail in Draenor this last week, but since then we have only heard rumors of his travels. We have encountered several Blacktalon agents, but on the rare occasion they deign to speak with us, they offer no information about your dragon."

Was Wrathion even _his dragon_ anymore? The last he had seen of the male, Wrathion had knocked him out and disappeared.

Shaw continued speaking, too tactful to draw attention to Anduin's reaction. "Additionally, there has been recent activity around Blackrock Mountain. Of course, given that this was previously the lair of a prominent black dragon, it's entirely possible that this is an unrelated incident. Wrathion claims to be the last uncorrupted black dragon and the red dragonflight seems to agree, but there could be more black dragons we don't know about." he said slowly. "It's near enough to Stormwind to cause some concern. If you wish it, I will send some men to scout the area."

Anduin wanted to refuse. Wrathion had betrayed him, and had made no effort to come and apologise. But the dragon was too proud to ever grovel, and there was no point sitting in his room sulking any longer. He rubbed his face, trying not to think about the way his heart was pounding against his chest with excitement and anxiety. "Alright." he said eventually. "Send a few men, if you can spare them. But I don't want you trying to capture him, if he is there. He is not an enemy."

The Spymaster eyed him with a look that suggested as though he wished to disagree, but he made no comment on it. "I can spare a few scouts. If we _do_ encounter him, our first priority will be to report back to you directly." he promised. "So far we've had no direct contact with him. If we do—"

"If you get the chance to speak with him, tell him..." he hesitated, but only for a moment. "Tell him that my promise still stands."

"Is that everything, Your Highness?"

"That is all. He'll know what it means. If he wishes to enter the city, let him. I would speak to him myself, if he'll give me the chance." he muttered.

"Understood. I shall inform you of anything we discover." the Spymaster gave a slight bow, waiting for Anduin to dismiss him before he walked to the door. He paused, just long enough to look back at the young Prince and offer some parting words. "I speak now as a friend to you and your father. Varian is concerned about you. He'd be out there himself, hunting down this dragon for you if it would make you feel better."

"Thank you, Shaw. I'll keep that in mind." he murmured, sounding a little apologetic. "I'm just feeling sorry for myself. Garrosh's trial wasn't easy, and I'm still healing from my injuries."

"No one is pressuring you to act. Rest and recover, do what you must. But take care not to shut yourself out." he warned. "And get some sun. If you stay inside any longer, people might mistake you for a ghost." he said lightly, his lips curling into a small smile before he closed the door.

As always, Shaw was professional at heart. But Anduin had known him long enough to know that beneath his professional exterior, Shaw was as human as anyone else. He never said it — never needed to say it — but he cared a great deal about both Varian and Anduin, as well as the men and women of SI:7 under his command. He would do right by Anduin.

* * *

He brought the blade up, deftly parrying the attack. While he lacked the sheer strength of his opponent, he made up for it with speed and guile. He pressed forward into the man's reach, too close for the man to swing his sword easily. His leg swept out at the same time and his foot connected with the inside of the male's knee, sending him staggering back and unable to retaliate fast enough. Anduin raised his own sword, pressing the flat of the blade to the man's neck. "A point for me." he said breathlessly, before lowering the blade and stepping back to regain his breath and calm his racing heart.

The knight gave him a proud smile, bowing his head. "You did well, Prince Anduin." he said simply. "Attacking my leg while I was distracted was a clever move."

The Prince ducked his head at the compliment, but he seemed pleased. "Am I improving much?" he asked hesitantly. "The sword still feels too cumbersome to use effectively, no matter how much I train."

"You have a slender build, Your Highness. That will make it harder. But you are only seventeen, and you'll get stronger with time. By the time you get to be my age, you'll find it much easier to wield." he laughed. "You have improved greatly since I first started sparring with you. Strength aside, you have your wits. Keeping a clear head in the midst of battle is an impressive feat, especially for someone so young."

 _And inexperienced,_ he thought to himself. "Thank you. Next time, I'll beat you even faster." he flashed the older man a smile, waving as the knight left the courtyard. Truth be told, he was looking forward to their rematch. Every few days the two of them sparred for a while in the courtyard outside SI:7 headquarters, and occasionally they spent time practicing on the target dummies.

"Prince Anduin?"

The blonde looked up at the familiar voice, his smile widening once he spotted the owner. "Genn!" he turned around, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Is everything alright?"

"I heard you were sparring, I thought I'd come and take a look for myself." Genn Greymane had always looked old ever since Anduin could remember, but he seemed to be wearing his age more than usual. He looked tired. Anduin knew the man was weighed down by the loss of his son, and while he never thought of himself as a replacement son, he knew Genn cared for him greatly.

Despite the ache in his limbs and the numbness in his hands from each time he parried or blocked, he gestured towards the racks of practice blades. "I've heard you're good with a blade. Will you spar with me for a while?" he asked eagerly. "I'm already good enough to beat a few knights, so obviously my next step is to beat a King." he joked.

The old wolf eyed him for a moment, then gave him a sly grin. "You're starting to sound like your father." he teased, taking one of the longswords from the rack and testing the heft and balance for a moment. "I won't go easy on you, Anduin." he warned. "There's a royal dinner tonight involving several nobles and crafters. If you manage to beat me, I'll pretend I have no knowledge of your absence from that dinner."

"If I win, you convince my father not to skip that dinner as well." he laughed, rolling his shoulders to ease the stiffness. "I think he has less patience for those nobles than I do."

Greymane inclined his head. "You're not wrong. Your father would much rather brawl with them than trade pleasantries, although I can't say I blame him." he admitted.

"Last time one of the nobles started an argument about the price of rugs. By the time dinner was over, father looked like he wanted to stab them with a fork."

"I'm more surprised he _didn't_."

Anduin smiled, regaining his composure and remembering his training as he hefted his own blade. Smaller than the one Greymane had chosen, but longer and heavier than he was comfortable with. "I won't go easy on you." he teased. When the older man gestured for him to begin, he nodded and lunged forward.

Swords clashed, steel ringing out in the courtyard. A few of the nearby guards turned their heads to watch the two. Greymane was clearly much stronger than the previous knight, even without changing into his worgen form. But unlike the knight, his size didn't weigh him down nor did he wear heavy armor. He was every bit as fast as Anduin, perhaps faster, and far more cunning.

"Good, good..." Greymane called out over the sound of steel meeting steel. "Nice footwork, keep it up. Don't overextend yourself." he spoke calmly, even as he blocked and parried Anduin's strikes. "Focus on your balance."

It stung for a moment, knowing he was so easily outmatched. But he reminded himself that he was only seventeen, and he had plenty of time to grow and get stronger.

He darted forward again as he swung the blade, attempting the manoeuvre he had used on the knight. But Greymane merely blocked the sword, slid back half a step, then disarmed him and knocked him down with a similar move, albeit more refined.

It was purely on instinct. His body reacted before he even realised what he was doing, assuming he was in danger and reacting accordingly. As soon as the blade was flung from his grip, a brilliant wave of golden light erupted from his hand. The shockwave sent Greymane hurtling back, easily thrown from his feet, and even making the nearby guards stagger. Once he regained control of his senses, he noticed the shimmering shield of light that enveloped him. Then he noticed Greymane staggering to his feet, his sword broken in half.

"Shit." he muttered, allowing the shield to fade as he got to his feet. He rarely swore, but then he had never lashed out with the Light like that. "Genn! Are you alright?" he asked worriedly. He rushed to the older man's side, his expression full of concern.

"I'm fine... You've been training in the Light still, I see. Paladin training?" he grunted. Seeing Anduin's face, he corrected himself. "Priest then. I don't know much about the Light, but I know enough to know that you have talent. And Varian?"

Anduin frowned at him. "Disapproving. He'd rather I focus on training with a blade." he admitted. "He says I need to be able to defend myself."

"Anduin, I would have agreed with him before today. But having felt that... that _blast_..." he shook his head. "You have talent and it would be an enormous waste not to pursue it. You're clumsy with a blade, but you have the basics down. It's not a bad idea to hone your skills with a sword of course, sometimes a sword is more effective than any kind of magic. But you certainly have no problem with defending yourself." he reached out to clap the Prince on the shoulder. "I'm not so old that taking a tumble will break me, Anduin. I'm _fine_."

His reassurance was kind, but the blonde was still fixated on what he had said. Genn Greymane, the stubborn old wolf — perhaps more stubborn than Varian himself — had changed his mind. If Greymane could accept Anduin training as a priest, perhaps there was hope yet for his father. "Thank you, Genn. I didn't mean to use the Light like that, it was just... reflexive." he admitted, visibly sheepish.

"There's no need to apologise. It's good to see that you've gotten stronger." he waved away his concern, shaking his head. "When I heard about your... altercation... with Garrosh Hellscream, I was worried you were too soft. Foolish enough to try to talk down a dangerous foe. But perhaps I judged you too harshly." he sighed. "You're young, and that gives you a naivety you'll outgrow. But you're more perceptive than most adults. You will make a fine king one day." for a moment his expression was distant, his eyes looking through Anduin, as though he was seeing someone else. But then he dusted himself off, giving the Prince a wry smile. "It was good to spar with you. But I warn you, you may have won this round, but I'll win next time."

"Oh, sure." Anduin said dryly. "Beat up a child, that's perfectly fair. Maybe next time I'll bring a stick for you to chase." he grinned at the good-natured _harrumph_ he received, moving to retrieve the broken blade.

"Prince Anduin."

The blonde had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at yet another distraction, but he turned around to face the newcomer without complaint. A female draenei, her eyes almost as icy as her voice. He felt his skin crawl instinctively as he realised she was a Death Knight, but he gestured for her to speak nevertheless. "What is it?"

"Spymaster Shaw sent me."

Greymane scowled at her. "I have matters to attend to. I'll leave you to it, Anduin." he said gruffly, turning to leave the way he came.

Once the worgen had left, the draenei turned her gaze back to him. Or at least it seemed that way, given that her eyes glowed too bright to reveal any sign of pupils. She didn't speak, merely gazed at him with that expressionless face and those cold, gleaming eyes. She had been pretty in life, no doubt. But in undeath, she was merely cold.

"Ah, I'm finished here. Walk back to the Keep with me?" he asked lightly, trying not to stare at her too much. He still wasn't used to the presence of Death Knights in the city, even though they'd been there for years. "Unless... Are you here to pass on a message, or take me to the Spymaster?" he amended.

"Both. I am to explain what we have found, and then the Spymaster will speak with you. He awaits us in the Keep library." she said coolly, waiting for him to lead the way. She fell into step beside him, her hooves clicking against the stone as they began to walk towards the Keep. "The Spymaster has enlisted the aid of a few Champions. While we go about our business, we are to keep an eye out for your missing dragon. We have been trailing him since you returned from Pandaria, but whenever we find his trail, he vanishes again." she explained. "He is not an active participant in this... alternate Draenor. He has kept to himself, avoiding conflict."

Anduin nodded slowly, keeping his expression neutral so as to not give anything away. "I see... Anything else?" he asked casually, as though the information was only mildly interesting to him. In truth, his heart pounded against his ribs. Wrathion was alive and well! And in Draenor, no less! It was the first good news in ages.

"There is more. We heard that Wrathion had arrived at Admiral Taylor's garrison, seeking asylum. He claimed to be running from conflict with the local ogres, and Admiral Taylor allowed him to stay, provided he remain supervised at all times. Wrathion paid some of the Admiral's men and disappeared with them." she explained. "By the time we reached the garrison, the remaining inhabitants were all dead — undead." she corrected herself, her lips pressing into a thin line for a moment. A hint of emotion crossed her face for the first time, but it vanished as quickly as it came. "We found no sign of Wrathion nor the men he took with him. He seems to have left before the slaughter."

Anduin winced. At least Wrathion hadn't been there... But the protection of a black dragon, even a whelp, could have helped save those people. "Alright." he said firmly, brushing away such thoughts. He didn't know the full details, nor was is really his place. His father and the Champions would worry about the garrison — Anduin had only asked about information on Wrathion.

He noticed the draenei watching him, her expression clouded. She looked as though she wanted to say something, brows furrowed slightly, but she didn't speak.

"What is it?" he asked eventually, glancing at her as they began to make their way up the stairs leading to the Keep. "And... what is your name?"

"My name is Agraeos." she said simply, almost dismissively. "I was merely thinking."

"About?"

She finally met his gaze, her expression troubled. "You care for this dragon." it was a statement, but something about her eyes made it sound more like a question.

"I do." he admitted, seeing no reason to lie.

"I heard about what happened at Garrosh Hellscream's trial. This dragon was your friend, and he betrayed you." she pressed. "Do you seek him out to punish him?"

He hesitated, not quite sure of the answer himself. A part of him was still angry at the male for what he had done — an immature, lonely part of him. But it was a petty desire. In truth, he mostly just missed their friendship. "When he left... He thought he was doing the right thing. And knocking me out did keep me from the worst of the fighting, so he did protect me, in a way." he mused. "But it's not to punish him. As his friend, it's my job to tell him when he's doing something bad. And besides... there are things I want to ask him, that I didn't get to ask before." he trailed off into thought, unconsciously biting his lip.

"You love him."

It was a statement again, but there was no hint of a question this time. She had presented it as fact — and he found himself unable to deny it. It wasn't the love he felt for his father, or the love he felt for the people of Stormwind; it was a foreign love to him. How he longed for Wrathion's company again, smug arrogance and all. "I suppose I do." he admitted, feeling the heat begin to rise to his face. "It's silly, I know. I will be king someday and I'll need to have an heir, and a male black dragon isn't really a suitable—"

"When you find him, tell him you love him." she said sharply, coming to a halt on the stairs. "You are young, Prince Anduin. We do not know how long we will spend in this life. Do not hide from your feelings, or one day you will find yourself old, and weary, and alone. If you love him, tell him. Worry about your responsibilities later. You are not king yet."

There was a flicker of sadness in those glowing blue eyes, just a brief memory of loss and pain. No doubt she had lost someone very dear to her, when she had died and been risen into undeath. He wanted to ask, wanted to find out what plagued her, but he knew it wasn't appropriate. Certainly, he could just ask Shaw for information. But he felt that it would be incredibly rude of him to intrude like that. Some secrets deserved to remain buried.

"I understand." he said gently. "I swear by the Light, the moment I find him, I'll tell him everything." he promised.

Her lips curled into a small smile, the first genuine emotion he had seen from her. "You are still young, little lion. When you are old, then you can worry about your responsibilities."

Anduin returned her smile with one of his own. "Thank you, Agraeos. I'll remember that."


	12. Stormwind Keep, Morning

"Where is he?" he demanded, stalking past the guards and striding into the War Room without a care to what he was interrupting. "Anduin didn't come back last night. _Where is he_?"

The Spymaster merely glanced up at him, obviously irritated at being interrupted mid-sentence. "Wrathion." he said bluntly. "That's what we're trying to find out." he paused, gesturing to the others standing around him. Greymane loomed over the table to Shaw's left, hackles raised and looking mere seconds from mauling the next unfortunate person to draw his ire. To Shaw's right, a handful of familiar faces. Wrathion scowled at them.

Standing at the forefront was a Draenei woman, her eyes gleaming frosty white. A Death Knight, judging from the pallor of her skin. A Dark Iron dwarf peered over the table, looking rather annoyed that he wasn't quite tall enough to have the same advantage as the others when it came to height. Standing taller than all of them and looking impassive as ever, a Demon Hunter, his empty eye sockets covered with a veil. 

The Champions of Azeroth. Or more specifically, of the Alliance. And behind them all, inspecting the weapons hung on the wall, was a more familiar face, one Wrathion knew well. A Night Elf rogue, one he had first met shortly after hatching from his egg.

"After we defeated N'Zoth," began the Draenei, inclining her head to the dragon. Agraeos, if he recalled correctly. "Many of us have scattered to the far corners of Azeroth. Most of us have our own goals to pursue, and we were the first Champions to respond to Spymaster Shaw's summons." she explained.

The dwarf beside her gave a snort, embers rising from his beard. "Aye, because we're the only fools sitting idle in Stormwind." he said dryly. "And yer only here because yer potions aren't selling—" 

"It's best to work with only a few Champions. Those of us here are the only ones who know the King has disappeared, and it *must* remain that way until we know more." Shaw leaned forward, his sharp tongue commanding the conversation. "These Champions have been chosen specifically for the knowledge they possess and the connections they have." he explained. 

"As a Death Knight, I am particularly inclined towards the undead. If Sylvanas or other undead are involved, I will find out." Agraeos explained, before she gestured to the dwarf beside her. "My irritable 'friend' here is a shaman, his connection to the Elements will help greatly."

"Fastadis, good dragon. We met briefly." he gave a half-bow. Wrathion gave him a nod, recalling the loud-mouthed dwarf from their brief meeting in Silithus.

"Demon Hunters know fel better than the rest of us. If a remnant of the Burning Legion is to blame for Anduin's disappearance, Dalashian will know." the Draenei continued, shooting the dwarf a look that very clearly told him to shut up. "And from what he says, you've met Adrastos before." she added, gesturing to the remaining Champion. 

"All these introductions are meaningless if we aren't going to do something." growled Greymane, slamming his hand down on the table. "Wrathion is right. We need to know what happened to Anduin, and we need to _act_."

"I followed his trail. It goes from the library up to an old storeroom in the top of the Keep." Wrathion said bluntly, crossing his arms over his chest. "It continues to the window, and then disappears."

"You think he flew? Gryphon, perhaps?" asked Agraeos.

Wrathion shook his head, eyes blazing. The longer they stood around _talking_ , who knew what was happening to Anduin. "He's a priest, they can levitate. I checked the nearby rooftops, he landed on the south-west wall and met with someone, and then departed on a gryphon." he explained. "The disappearances in Elwynn Forest. We were thinking there might be old lava tunnels beneath the forest that might currently be involved." he said quickly, already too impatient to wait any longer. "Shaw, you saw his maps. I'm going. It'll be faster." without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and stalked out.

He barely made it outside the Keep before a hand grabbed his wrist, pulling him back. He turned with a snarl, only to pause when he saw who it was. The weary face of Genn Greymane met his expression without hesitance, his eyes betraying his worry. "You and I... I never approved of his affection for you, but... Get him back. Find Anduin, and make sure he's safe." he said firmly, releasing his wrist. "Go. Shaw and I can handle things here, we'll catch up as soon as we can. But be careful, many people won't take too kindly to a black dragon flying around."

Wrathion studied him for a heartbeat, then nodded. "I'll bring him back home. You have my word." he turned away and in the space of another heartbeat, a sinuous black dragon was quickly winging its way towards Elwynn Forest.

* * *

As he flew, he reminisced. 

They had both been so young, and things had been somewhat simpler. Wrathion was more focused on getting the Alliance and Horde conflict out of the way and Anduin had been resting, allowing himself to recover from the injuries caused by the Divine Bell. Things had been... awkward, at first. Neither knew what to expect from the other; Anduin had been somewhat skittish given his prior experience with black dragons, and Wrathion hadn't been sure telling the future king of Stormwind his true identity was a good idea. But things turned out in a way neither of them had expected. Their bickering had become amicable, even playful, and Wrathion was grateful for the company. The Tavern in the Mists was a delight place, but with only his bodyguards and the innkeeper for company, it had been somewhat lonely. But then Anduin had arrived, thanks to the suggestion of one of his healers. The nearby hot springs would do wonders to ease his pain, they told him. Had they known a black dragon was currently residing there, their suggestion might have been different. 

Wrathion had a good memory. He could recall events that took place when he was still in his egg, the sounds and vibrations of voices and movement. But there was one memory he remembered more clearly than the rest, the one memory that had both haunted and soothed him after his betrayal. 

They had been sitting against the stone fence atop Mason's Folly, a bowl of fruit between them. Somehow they had ended up playing a game of truth or dare, each trying to outdo the other. 

"Your turn." Anduin announced, fingers working to peel a mandarin. His dexterity was returning swiftly, a sure sign of his recovery. He took a piece for himself, before holding it out to the male. 

"Truth, this time." he decided. He plucked one of the segments from the fruit, claws peeling away all trace of the pith before he popped it into his mouth. 

Anduin thought for a moment, tilting his head. "Hmm... who is your favorite person, alive or dead?" he asked eventually. 

Wrathion's smirk widened. Such a simple question, he expected something more creative from the young prince. "Myself, of course—" he broke off into a laugh and brought his hands up to shield himself as Anduin threw a piece of the peel at him. "You would be a close second, if only because I fear you might maim me otherwise." he teased. 

Anduin rolled his eyes, but he seemed amused. There was something incredibly charming about the way his cheeks flushed a light pink, the afternoon sun making his hair shine a brilliant gold. Not for the first time, Wrathion noticed how perfectly his eyes matched the blue sky above. 

"Your turn. Truth or dare?" he plucked a grape from the bowl, only to throw it at the blonde instead. Something in his chest tightened at the way the human laughed and threw it back, managing to bounce it right off the dragon's nose. If he hadn't been so distracted by his smile, he would have easily stopped it. 

"Well... dare, I suppose. I picked truth last time." he decided. "And if you throw another grape, I'm going to throw an entire mandarin at you." he warned, his free hand grabbing one from the bowl and giving a few practice swings, aiming for his face. 

Wrathion grinned at him and opened his mouth, but the words that escaped him weren't the ones he was expecting to say. "I dare you to kiss me." he said suddenly. 

Anduin blinked once, like an owl, before he tried a smile. But then he realized it wasn't a joke and the male wasn't just teasing him again, and his face flushed a brilliant shade of red — so bright, it almost matched Wrathion's eyes. For a moment, Wrathion wanted to kick himself. How embarrassing, saying something so foolish, so _idiotic_ to a human prince! What an idiot he was, a moron through and through, to think he might even stand a chance! 

"Hah, you must have—?!" he broke off into stunned silence as the blonde leaned forward suddenly, pressing their lips together. It was clumsy and inexperienced and they actually headbutted a little, but it was incredibly soft, with a warmth Wrathion had never felt before. This time it was Wrathion's turn to be speechless, eyes wide as the human finally pulled away. He could see it in his face, the way he winced as he sat back down, likely due to his still-healing wounds. His expression softened, feeling the heat rising in his face. "Don't push yourself too much." he huffed, his voice sounding a little haughty. But then he looked down at the bowl of fruit, anywhere but at the blonde. "Just ask me next time... so you don't have to stretch." he muttered. 

* * *

Wrathion was furious. He was _beyond_ furious. He wanted to roar, to bow his head as he flew and turn the forest below to ash. Everything he had done, everything he had strived for since his time in Pandaria — all at risk. They had defeated the Legion, beaten N'Zoth, and most importantly to Wrathion, he had almost mended his relationship with Anduin. And just like _that_ , it was all in danger of falling apart. He growled low in his throat, the sound rumbling in his chest. When he found whoever it was involved in Anduin's disappearance, he was going to tear them limb from limb and burn them to charcoal.

He flew as fast as his wings could beat, feeling the ache growing in his muscles and ignoring it. He'd fly all the way to Kalimdor to find Anduin if he had to. Distance didn't matter. His claws grasped at the empty air in frustration, imagining his talons raking open flesh. He halfway folded one wing, banking to the side as a panicked flock of birds took to the sky to escape from the furious dragon. There were people below scurrying in fright at the shadow that swept over them.

 _Just like Deathwing, how ironic_ , he thought to himself dryly, paying them little heed as he soared over the treetops. Just for a second, he almost understood his father's drive to destroy the world. Different reasons, but if something had happened to Anduin…

The sound of an angry gryphon caught his attention, his head turning in the direction of the noise. _There!_ Wrathion turned in the air with all the swiftness of an eel in water, folding his wings in tight. He dropped like a stone, plummeting towards a clearing. His wings snapped open just before he hit the ground, only for him to change form the second his feet touched the ground.

A wounded gryphon shrieked at him, rearing up on its hind legs and clawing the air. Its feathers were stained crimson, a deep wound running from its shoulder to its flank. The beast wouldn't last much longer if it continued to flail around so much, but it continued to ward away the dragon. But then he caught sight of the saddle, and his fears were realized. The familiar blue and gold saddle was clearly Stormwind made, usually restricted to the armored gryphon riders that guarded the skies of the city. The riders didn't fly out so far — Anduin had been here.

He held his hands up, murmuring gentle nothings in the hopes of soothing the livid beast. "Hush... Your rider was here, wasn't he? I'm here to help." he said slowly, inching towards the gryphon. When it shrieked again, he came to a halt and crouched down to let it come to him. "I'm not going to hurt you, it's alright. Come here."

After what felt like a lifetime, the gryphon began to calm down — perhaps from the bloodloss. The beast lowered its head as it slowly crept towards him, clicking its beak at him in frustration. "I know, it must hurt. Let me help." he shifted forward slightly, carefully stripping the saddle from its back and taking the cloth from beneath it. "This will stop the bleeding. It's the best I can do... until we find Anduin." he didn't know if the creature understood him, but it seemed content with the dragon for the moment.

Once he had the cloth firmly tied around the wound, he reached out to ruffle the gryphon's feathers. "There, that'll have to do for now. Now..." he sighed heavily, noticing that his hands were shaking slightly. He clenched them into fists to hide it, trying to ignore the twisting feeling in his chest. "Now we need to find Anduin."

The gryphon huffed at him before it sank to the ground, having expended too much energy to go any further. But it jerked its beak in the direction of the nearby barn before lowering its head onto its paws.

"Thanks. I'll be back." he promised, patting it one last time before he got to his feet. The barn was nothing impressive, just a ramshackle old building that was starting to fall apart and slowly becoming overgrown with weeds. But Anduin's scent lingered in the air, although it was rapidly fading away. He ran a shaking hand through his tangled hair, red eyes glancing every which was as though Anduin was merely hiding somewhere nearby. There was another scent as well as Anduin's and while he couldn't quite place where he knew it from, it was very clearly elven in nature — but it contained something else, something older. 

Another low growl rumbled in his throat, anger rising within him once more. It had torn him apart to leave Anduin back in Pandaria, to break his heart and betray him like that. He had been so relieved to come back and finally, _finally_ try to repair their friendship after so many years. And for a while, it seemed to be working. He hadn't fully realized just how much he had missed the young human, but now that Anduin had disappeared, the truth was painfully apparent. He cared a great deal for Anduin, and he couldn't ignore the heavy ache in his heart.

His senses were more keen than any human in this form, but it wasn't enough. The strange scent still eluded him. Even as he stepped forward his form changed, until claws dug into the soft soil and his tail lashed at the empty air. Now with unhindered senses he could tell that the other scent belonged to a creature steeped in the Void, although it had tried to conceal its presence by appearing as something else. He growled again, scanning the ground around the barn. The grass was trampled and crushed as though someone had passed back and forth a few times, and though he was no expert tracker, he could tell that the trail had doubled back and disappeared into the barn. Wisps of smoke trailed from his snout as he moved, his body low to the ground as he followed the scent. It didn't matter where Anduin had gone, what had happened to him, who was involved — Wrathion would find him no matter what. 

**Author's Note:**

> I am a sucker for soft wholesome romance, plus a little bit of sass and maybe some smut later on. I'm always open for criticism and I don't mind taking on requests, although I'm a little picky!


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